


A Dragon’s Legacy (On hold)

by House_Targaryen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Don't Like Don't Read, Dragons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Incest, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon is named Daeron, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, R Plus L Equals J, Targaryens/Family Incest, Violence, direwolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/House_Targaryen/pseuds/House_Targaryen
Summary: The Prince that was Promised is born, and Death itself is reborn in the far north, in the Lands of Always Winter.20 years later, the Night King now makes his way south to rid Westeros of all life, then the world. Only one stands in its way.The Great War nears.(THIS STORY IS ON HOLD TILL FURTHER NOTICE.)





	1. Chapter One - Prologue

Lyanna

Queen Lyanna woke up to the sound of bells ringing, waking those who were still deep in their sleep. Her still sleepy eyes now trying to familiarise themselves with her surroundings; to which she realised, the chambers she was in were definitely not hers.

Lya’s eyes opened wider and she yawned, still tired. The doors leading to the balcony of the room were open; a cool breeze blew into the room, the sweet sound of the waves crashing on the shore had her wondering where exactly she was (she knew exactly where she was however). She glanced a look through the open doors of the balcony, and noticed the sun just slightly above the water, its light filling the sky with shades of orange and pink; the warm hues of peach, and magenta, and amber, signifying a brand, new day.

She felt sore, an aching feeling settling between her thighs, yet she also felt sated. She needed to stretch her whole body, loosen the muscles that felt stiff, but she couldn’t, for she was trapped; an arm was wrapped around her body, one hand enveloped her left breast, the other was splayed against her stomach. Her back was against a muscular chest, legs folded – they were practically cuddling together – and the man’s flaccid cock fit between her arse-cheeks. This person’s touch was too familiar with her body; their fingers were rough and calloused, his body was toned from what Lya could feel behind her. She wanted to compare his touch to that of her husband, Rhaegar but it has been some time since she’s been  _ with _ her husband.

She took a peek around the room and took notice of her surroundings. Although, there was not much in the room: just a table – a chair that looked to be thrown in the corner – a nice ornate style wardrobe with dragons and wolves carved into it, an open chest and well, that was all in the room – a simple chamber room. But it was one particular object that caught her eye: a sword, no, a Valyrian sword that was perched on top of the items where the chest was located. Blackfyre was its name, she remembered the name because it was the same sword that was passed down to a special person in her life. Her son, Daeron Targaryen, had been gifted the sword by his father, Rhaegar Targaryen, for his acts of bravery in an attack on the Princess Arianne almost six years ago.

She remembered witnessing Rhaegar handing the sword to his son, her son’s very rare smile plastered on his beautiful face; everybody in the Great Hall had gasped in surprise when her son had unsheathed the Valyrian steel blade and held the sword up for everyone to see. Questions were asked about how the King had found the lost sword, but to this day, Rhaegar had yet to reveal how he acquired the Valyrian steel sword.

Jon’s siblings: Rhaenys, Aegon, and his baby sister Visenya congratulated him for the gift; his good-mother Elia, and grandmother Rhaella had given their congrats as well. When Lyanna was just about to give her thanks to her baby boy, she halted her movements and looked at the two men in front of her; looking at both her husband and son - who then had their heads turned toward her - their rare smiles shown on their gorgeous faces, it didn’t escape Lya that in that perfect moment, both father and son looked exactly alike that it was hard to distinguish who was who for a split second.

Bringing herself back from the past, she realised this wasn’t any man holding her, no, this was her own son. Her baby boy. Lya’s lips formed into a smile as she now remembered how she came to be in this very position. A feast was being held for the announcement of Aegon and Margaery’s second pregnancy. In the late hour, more than a few cups of wine in, and Queen Lyanna was horny and wanted to fuck; her eyes scanned the feast hall, looking for her other Queen, maybe a quick tryst to somewhat sate the wolf’s blood in her. But, she caught sight of Elia with her son and good-daughter, chatting away with them and congratulating both. She couldn’t ruin the moment, she wouldn’t for her own selfish needs - her wife looked too happy to take her away.

So, Lya looked away and scanned the hall again, maybe she could do a quick one with Rhaegar, though that most likely won’t happen. He was too busy chatting with some folks, with  _ that _ red priestess next to him. Anger coursed through her blood now. She got out of her seat and silently left the feast, dismissing her guard not to follow her. Maybe the cold breeze will cool her lustful thoughts. Or she’ll just get herself off quickly. But, as Lya was leaving, she didn’t take notice of the pair of eyes catching her exiting the hall, with a smirk plastered on her face. Elia Martell hoped the night goes well for her wife.

Before that could happen however, Lya she saw her good-daughter, Arianne Martell, exit out of a storage room; hair disheveled, lips swollen, a breast bared before it was covered by the tight covered dress she was wearing - Lyanna remembered seeing her dark colored nipple, covered in a man’s seed. Not a moment later, once the Princess of Dorne had took notice that one of the Queen’s was directly in front of her, her son had exited the storage room after, his dark curls framing his handsome face, lips also swollen, and Lya gasped in surprise when she saw his cock before he put it back into his trousers - Arianne smirked at her expression and walked right past her, her hips swaying sexually. Those two always found a way to find their release.

She questioned what was in her drink, for it all happened faster and very unexpectedly than she thought; seeing her son’s cock had her dripping, and the need to get fucked hard overwhelmed any sense she had left. So, the Queen quickly walked towards her son - who now had a questioning yet hunger look on his face - and she whispered in his right ear, ‘Meet me in your chambers.’ Jon quickly turned towards his chambers without hesitation, his mother went to her own and changed her clothing to a very thin dress that left little to imagination - she went to her son’s chambers. The rest of the night, Lya had experienced more orgasms with her son than in her time being with  _ both _ Elia and Rhaegar.

Again, bringing her mind away from those pleasurable memories, she removed the silken sheets off her body and sat up, untangling herself from her son’s embrace - he stirred from her movements. Lyanna looked down at herself, seeing the red marks her son left her with, seeing his dried seed on between her thighs. Her fingertips traced over the bite mark he left on her left breast. The memory came flooding back again, remembering the way Daeron removed her robe all slow and swiftly, then their passion for each other rose high; the way she brought his mouth to her exposed breast as he pounded her deep and hard into the mattress, his thick and huge cock stretching and filling her needy cunt with each powerful thrust.

She stood up from the bed. Her whole body ached wondrously from the drilling her son had put her through until the early hours of the morning. Her lips curled into a grin at feeling the odd sensation between her thighs, practically visualizing the huge load still lodged in her pussy - her incestuous mind mesmerizing the numerous times Daeron had deposited inside her. She was exhausted, but Lya had never felt more deliciously satisfied in her life since she moved to King’s Landing.

Lya wondered if she would be able to get through the day without trying to think about her son’s glorious cock and how he put his member to good use. At the end of the day, she hoped for another long night with her son. She also wondered if Daeron was tired from their time together; however, she knew he wasn’t, not from hearing (from the servants no less) how her boy spends lots of time with women, highborn and lowborn. No, he would not be tired, but Lyanna did worry if this was going to be a one time thing - she hoped It wasn’t, for she wanted her Prince to pump her full of his seed.

Lya walked towards the balcony and stepped outside, basking in the cool breeze of the ocean and the warmth radiating from the rising sun. She wasn’t afraid of anyone seeing her nude form,  _ not like anybody could see me considering it’s all water from this view… and it is a beautiful view from here _ . Lya sighed in bliss, closing her eyes and enjoying this sweet moment of silence, save for the sound of crashing waves. For a moment, Lyanna Stark Targaryen pictured herself living in the same chambers, with her son - and that thought brought a huge smile upon her face.

She placed a hand on the balcony railing, reached down with the other between her legs and gave her swollen and abused pussy lips a little rub, thinking about what it would feel like to wake her son up with a blowjob. She slipped her middle finger between her cunt lips and brought that finger up to her mouth; her soft full lips sucking shamelessly as she savored the heavenly, yet sinful flavor of their combined juices. Lya thought again about how thrilling it would be to slip back in her son’s chambers and slip her full lips over his hardened member and suck him whole… and suck… and suck until she was rewarded with a lovely, creamy mouthful directly from the source. She groaned at the thought and before she could plunge another finger insider her, to scoop more of their creamy fluids into her mouth… she was wrapped in an embrace.

She gasped at the hardened member poking into her lower backside, a hand fondling her left breast, the other stilling her hand before she could slip her fingers in. “Mother,” his husky and gruff voice sent a shiver through her whole body, “You enjoyin’ the view?”

“Mornin’ baby,” she purred, relaxing into his embrace; she brought her hand up to his head and stroked his curls. “I feel happy and… relaxed. I haven’t felt like this in awhile.”

“Mama, last night was incredible,” he said leaning into her caressing hand.

“Indeed, love, it was. But, we’re going to have to be careful from now on, ok.” Lyanna had turned her whole body around to face her son, who was naked like her. She saw the way his eyes took in the front side of her figure. Her breasts - capped with pink nipples - weren’t on the large side, but their size fit perfectly in her son’s hands and were just right for her petite form; a toned stomach with a thin waist, wide hips perfect for birthing children, long muscular legs and with no hair above her mound, easily showing her pussy lips - a cunning smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “Sweetie, I think we should try to keep to ourselves till tonight, you practically wore me out last night.”

“Are you telling me, you didn’t like it? I was hoping we could do it again,” Daeron replied back.

“No, that’s not what I meant- I loved every single moment of our time together,” Lya gave her son a luscious teasing smile and removed any doubt from him, “I fuckin’ enjoyed having you inside me like that… it was fuckin’ amazing. Yet, like I said, we have to be careful and hope we don’t get caught.” She didn’t even want to think about the repercussions that would occur if someone had found out about what happened between Lyanna and her son. Something that shouldn’t have happened, it was sinfully wrong in every way possible, an intimate relationship between a mother and son was not a good thing; she couldn’t think of what Rhaegar would do if he found out.

She continued, “In the meantime, let’s try and act normal for the day. I’m tired and I don’t know how I am going to make it through the day without thinking of your cock.”

“I don’t know if I can wait until tonight,” her son replied, his gaze dropped to her breasts. “Mother, I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage.”

Lyanna noticed his eyes drawn to her bosom; pupils blown wide apart, black onyx color conquering the grey color of his irises. His eyes showing great lust and desire from staring directly at her breasts. Her very own eyes went to his groin and saw that her son’s cock was beginning to swell. She wanted to hold out till tonight, but seeing Daeron's hardened shaft and remembering what he did to her with it last night had her blood quickening. She grabbed his throbbing member – he winced at her tight hold on him - and walked them both back into her son’s chambers.

She sat on the bed and spread her legs, opening herself and allowing him to step between her; her cunt lips spreading, letting some of his seed ooze out of her slit and run down between her creamy legs. “Do you want me right now, Daeron?” She asked him with a glint in her eye.

“Oh, yes I do, mama,” he responded with a moan from her stroking his now erect cock.

“Show me then,” Lya demanded of her son. Her son eagerly obeyed her by settling himself onto his knees. Lya groaned at the sight of her baby boy kneeling before her.

He ran his fingers up the inside of her muscular but soft thigh. His calloused hand sent a shiver through her, goosebumps now showing on her body; her nipples hardening from his fingers sliding higher and higher, till the tips brushed over her glistening pink pussy-lips causing her hips to jerk. “You feel soft and swollen,” he told her as he ran his fingers over her hot and slick snatch.

“I think that might have to do with the pounding you gave me all night long,” she whispered breathlessly, her hand finding its way into his black curls wanting his mouth… no his godly tongue in her, worshipping her like he did last night.

Daeron took the plunge and slid his thick middle finger deep into her silky and smooth pussy. “Mmmm, it feels nice and gooey in here.” He accentuated his statement by spinning his inserted finger in a slow circle, swishing the warm creamy fluids inside her.

“I wonder why it feels like that,” Lyanna responded back with a mocking smile on her face. “Could it be from all those times you filled me up with your seed, baby?”

Her son smiled that rare smile of his and her heart beat erratically; he rubbed his buried finger more firmly along the roof of her vagina.

“Ohhh,” Lyanna moaned as she leaned her head back, legs spreading further apart, hips tilting up to assist her son’s finger, her arm extended fully behind her for support, so she didn’t fall back – her hand tightened in his hair. “Son, that feels good,” rolling her hips, she grinded her necessitous cunt against his hand.

Daeron positioned himself closer between her legs and inserted another finger, now starting to put more effort. Another rare smile, pearly white teeth showing as he stared at his fingers sliding in and out, their creamy juices coating the digits from their lovemaking. He brought his other idle finger – from his other hand – and ran it over the glistening lips of her pussy; he slid the finger higher till he rubbed lightly over the hooded and still sensitive clit. Lya moaned deep in her throat, eyes closing in bliss as her son worked his now thrusting fingers deeper and harder into her.

“Oh, by the gods, that’s really gooood…,” she groaned, her body falling back onto the bed with her hand scrunching and pulling on the sheets. Her motherly hips twisting from side to side as Daeron plunged his fingers much farther inside her. “Oh, I’m going to… I’m… I… uhhhhh…” Lyanna brought the soft plush pillow over her mouth and screamed into it, hoping it concealed the sounds as she convulsed through her climax. Her son kept thrusting his fingers in and out, along the soft folds of her flesh; his other finger rolled over her pulsing clit, prolonging her orgasm. Her legs were twitching, both of their combined juices oozing from her weeping cunt. She was still cumming, legs shaking as she rode out the magnificent release she received from her son, who was still driving his fingers inside and out lewdly, driving her even more crazy.

Her body came to a final rest as Daeron’s fingers slowly withdrew from her slit. The aftershocks of her orgasm coursed through her whole body, sending warmth all over her.

“Well… now it seems like we made quite a mess here, huh mother?” He claimed, nodding his head to the wet spot between her spread legs. Lya’s eyes followed his gaze on her flushed pink pussy lips and very creamy inner thighs, it was all shining with their milky juices. “Now, I can’t leave you looking like this now. Better clean this up for you, mama,” her son moved even closer between Lya’s spread legs, his eyes burning with lust and a crave that had her shifting backwards on the bed. No matter, for her Daeron followed right after her.

Lyanna squealed when her son grabbed her ankles and pulled her back to the edge of the bed; she remembered how eager he was to put his mouth on her cunt and stick his tongue into her warm smooth pussy. Remembering the orgasm after orgasm after another with just his beautiful wet and sinful mouth. The only other person who ate her out was none other than her sister-wife, Elia Martell, yet somehow with her son doing the deed, it was much more exhilarating and exciting when he was eating her out.  _ He did say he  _ loved _ doing it _ ,  _ and I am willing to let him do it more when he wants, _ were the Queen’s lewd thoughts. “Go ahead, baby… clean up mama.”

Daeron’s face was flushed with excitement and arousal as he extended his tongue and licked the inside of his mother’s smooth thigh. Their combined juices had him breathing in the enticing scent, stimulating his senses. He flattened his tongue and slid higher up her thigh, drawing both her honey juices and his own seed into his mouth, the warm mixture overwhelming his taste-buds.

“Mmmm,” he groaned in satisfaction at the wickedly sinful fluids coating his tongue; he swallowed the substance, closing his eyes in bliss as the pearly juices slid down his throat. He focused his attention on her other thigh, where more of their fluids were leaking down from her pussy, and onto the sheets she was laying on. Starting from her lower thigh, her boy darted his wet tongue out and licked upwards, swallowing more of the oozing juices she gushed out from her release. Looking like he wanted more of her, he pressed his lips on her leaking pink pussy lips, then slid his tongue deep inside her to seek out more of her intoxicating substance.

“Oh gods, Daeron, that feels really good,” Lyanna moaned as she looked down between her spread legs, her son’s beautiful face pressed tightly to her warm and wet cunt. She wanted to make this dirtier, filthier, something she’s never done in her life; she pushed and forced the huge globs of her son’s seed downwards, and into his open mouth. She smiled sinfully wicked at hearing the nasty sound made by her son sucking what she pushed out. With her smile still plastered on her face, she tightened her hold on Jon’s dark curly hair, twisting it and pulling him more firmly against her. “Ooh, my sweet baby boy, your tongue feels good inside me… yes, nice and deep. Get it all out… uhhh… just like that. Eat mama like the good son you are. Get that filthy cum of yours out of me. Mmmm, mama likes that.”

Lyanna felt like she could stay in this moment forever. She loved it when her son ate her out the night before, and there was something thrilling about him doing it now, licking and sucking and swallowing their essence from her steaming cunt. He sent his tongue deeper, if possible, and massaged the inner pink folds of her smooth flesh hoping to drink more from her.

“Mmmm,” Daeron groaned deep from his throat once he swallowed her fluids before sending his tongue back into her hot, wet channel.

“Oh, by the old gods and new,” Lya moaned, placing both of her hands on her son’s head and pressed his face flush up against her. “Lick my cunt, my sweet boy. Lick it nice and good. Swallow all of that seed you poured into me.”

He was more than eager to do what she asked, it seemed to her, for he sucked and licked and swallowed over and over again as she flooded his mouth. She was sure all of his seed was gone from her, yet her boy was still very eager to drink from her, lapping her motherly nectar that had only enhanced in flavor as she grew older and by being a mother of two. It was not hard to see that her son was addicted to her sweet tangy nectar.

Lyanna’s son’s skilled tongue was now pressing firmly on the upper folds of her pink flesh, on the roof of her vagina – the force of the probing muscle heightened her throbbing clit. Eyes closed in harmony, mouth slightly parted in small gasps, hips rutting into her son’s face, Lya wished she could remain in this moment; this moment between a mother and her son, but alas it was not meant to be, for she knew soon, one of the Kingsguard will seek out her son to train. “Ohh, fuck, my son, that’s good right there but… uhhh… I need you to lick my clit baby -finish me off, please.”

He pulled his tongue out of her drenched pussy and Lyanna whimpered at the sight of her son’s face, flooded with her creamy arousal. She gripped him harder and pulled him forward to her pulsing and stiff pearl, his lips sealing over it willingly. He gently sucked her clit and rolled his tongue over it, his own spit bathing it. He continued to suck the hot erect nodule, Lya’s hips thrusting, rolling her cunt wantonly towards her lover’s hot and wet mouth.

Everything snapped in Lyanna’s working body as she came from her son pleasuring her with his mouth. She quickly pulled back the pillow she used to cover her mouth again… and screamed even louder into soft material hoping it covered the loud screams. Her eyes rolled back into their socket, hips bucking erratically as she grounded her mound up into her son’s face; his sinful but wonderful mouth working wonders to her convulsing body. She twitched and shook from her orgasm, her cunt gushing her discharge and covering her son’s chin and neck with her nectar; Daeron’s mouth never separated from her pulsing clit, still sucking and licking till she couldn’t take anymore, making the mother push her son away – her clitoris was too sensitive. The sound of a servant walking past the chamber room had Lya reacting quickly. She brought his face towards her own and stuck her own tongue out and began licking and lapping lovingly all over his face, drinking her own creamy nectar. She was quick about it; her soft tongue ran everywhere she could lap her motherly juices.

“There’s not a lot of time left… and I need to have my fill of you, baby.” She pulled her son to stand onto his feet and grabbed his huge erect member, stroking the thick shaft and caressing his swollen balls with her other hand – precum had leaked onto her wrist. Lyanna licked her full lips staring at the kingly cock before her eyes, remembering how it felt between her  _ lips _ . She looked up to her son and smiled at him, remembering how she took his load directly into her mouth, loving the sweet taste of him – no matter how many loads he pumped into her, she couldn’t get enough of him.

“I need you to come for me, sweetie. Hurry, and come for your mama,” she pumped more vigorously and was ready to take him into her mouth when a soft knock was heard. Everything ceased and her son whined when she stopped stroking him and looked up at him, giving him a sad smile and nodding her head to the door, signaling for him to answer it before the person gets suspicious. His shoulders sagged as he walked over to answer whoever knocked on it… _has to be Jaime Lannister,_ _Daeron’s sworn sword_, Lyanna thought unhappily, for she wanted to swallow her son’s cock whole and drink his essence, but it was not meant to be; she raised herself to her feet and picked up her robe when she heard, “King Rhaegar requests your presence, my Prince.”

“I will be there. Thank you, Ser Jaime.” Daeron quickly replied, practically showing his full nude body to the Lannister knight, who didn’t look bothered by it – her son was not afraid of people seeing him naked… Lya flushed from his antics.

Her son closed the door, turned around and put on a confusing look on his face. “You mustn’t let your father wait – go, we can finish this tonight.” She told her son, the Queen’s façade showing itself, for she knew her  _ husband _ was not someone to test his patience. They kissed, lovingly and intimately, then parted. Lyanna Stark Targaryen exited the room using the secret entrance her son had.

When she finally arrived at the Queen’s chamber, she set her ear close to hear if anyone was in the room.  _ Empty… that’s good. _ She sighed in relief and entered the chambers, but not before she was roughly grabbed and turned to come face to face with the person she hoped wouldn’t be here. She looked beautiful however, her olive skin flushed with light sweat - from the heat of King’s Landing, Lya assumed – and her body seemed like she ran a marathon.  _ Wha- _

Before she could say anything, her sister-wife pulled her into a heated kiss, leaving Lya breathless afterwards when they separated. “I knew it,” was what Elia said before, “You filthy slut.” Lyanna sighed in defeat at what was to come; tears threatened to spill out from her eyes and her bottom lip trembled, she didn’t expect someone to find out what she did…  _ but someone did stupid girl _ . But what surprised Lya the most was what came after, “So, how was it?”

* * *

The Dornish Queen

She was watching her two boys spar. Princes Aegon and Daeron Targaryen were in the training yard, exchanging blows with one another. Aegon was at a disadvantage, Elia knew, compared to the younger brother who was definitely the better swordsman – Egg  _ is _ better with the lance however. They were drawing a crowd, like they always did when they sparred against each other. Elia noticed her sister-wife sitting next to her, looking as if she were staring at the match before them, but Elia knew… she knew who she was staring at intently, making Elia smirk inwardly.

There were others in attendance, noble families who attended Egg and his wife’s pregnancy announcement. However, Elia didn’t want to point them out, for  _ they _ were here for other reasons. Her good-daughter was staring intently at her husband, wincing and flinching whenever Daeron would strike his brother with the training sword. Both would laugh from each strike on one another, yet they never cared if they lost to each other; Egg never wanted his brother to go easy on him however, and his young brother was more than willing to show his skills. It seemed his training with Ser Jaime Lannister had helped her good son in more ways than not.

Seeing Daeron in this moment: his movements smooth, swift, and quick; constantly moving so fast, her son wasn’t able to keep up with him caused a stirring in her loins (she noticed the way Lya pressed her legs closer). Daeron would circle his brother like a wolf would its prey before he lunged, surprising Egg to the point where it became too late for him to react quickly enough. Her son would land on his backside, wincing at the impact, yet Daeron would give him a hand to stand back up… and start over.

There was no hate between them, no jealousy, nor loathing against the two; just love between the two brothers who cared for each other. The people of Westeros thought Daeron would cause another ‘Dance’ once he was at an age to do so, but they could never be more wrong about him. Anyone who was close to them could realize how much her good-son loves his family.  _ He may do  _ things _ that aren't proper for a Prince of his status, but there is a reason he does those  _ things _ ,  _ Elia thought with sadness. She knew what the reason was, and she always questioned herself why her  _ husband _ started to treat his own son like he was nobody to him.

Shaking her head from those thoughts, Elia looked back to the sparring match, looking at Daeron, and her thoughts went dirty; she began noticing more of her good-son as of late, her attention more on him than anything. She didn’t know why, but she knew something was going on between her good-son and his mother, she didn’t know what but she was going to figure out what exactly it was. And she was more than happy she did.

She noticed the quick glances Daeron would make at his mother. The lust in his eyes when staring at her bosom or toned arse. This was not a look a son should give his mother. But removing any wrongdoings, she couldn’t be angry at him, she understood why he desired his mother. Lyanna Stark  _ is _ a beautiful woman, Elia would always think to herself, with her pale creamy skin, dark brown luscious locks that went down to her buttocks, her bottom full and rounded and firm, grey eyes that would darken in her arousal state, and best of all was her cunt. Yet, just Lyanna herself was the reason Elia fell in love with her when they met at the tourney of Harrenhal. They had only gotten closer as the days went on.

So, a plan was formed in her mind, a wicked and sinful plan that is. She needed help from her younger brother, Oberyn, to do what she needed to do. Elia never questioned how her brother was able to acquire this particular item. It was a small vial that consisted of clear fluids; she remembers the smirk he gave when handing her the vial saying, ‘Use it wisely sweet sister.’ He said in that smooth voice of his. She scoffed at him saying, ‘It’s not for me brother.’ Elia left afterwards to get herself ready for the feast that was being prepared for the announcement.

She had to be quick about it, to not raise any suspicion. She would pour only a few drops in both Daeron’s and Lya’s wine cups. Enough to get them hot and horny and fuck each other till they couldn’t walk, or that was what Oberyn had told her. She didn’t expect Daeron and her niece, Arianne to leave the feast together, leaving Lya squirming in her seat at the table they were at.

Elia felt bad for her wife, but she couldn’t relieve Lya of her sexual desires; no, that would have to fall in the hands of Lyanna’s son. She cursed herself thinking the plan would’ve worked; it would’ve had it not been for her niece, Arianne and her lustful ambition. For a quick moment, she thought of their husband, Rhaegar helping Lya out, but Elia pushed that thought away, for she knew it wouldn’t happen. Not when he was chatting away with that red priestess, all smiles and giggles that made Elia sneer at them two. Yes, her relationship with Rhaegar Targaryen wasn’t the greatest, but she still cared for him in a way. _I have two beautiful children; there may not have been love_ _involved, but I still cared for him in a way_, Elia thought sadly. _And he shoves it away to spend his nights with that _woman_._

It wouldn’t have bothered Elia that much, if it didn’t trouble her wife; Lyanna’s sadness at seeing her  _ love _ spending more of his time with the red woman, made Elia rage with hatred. Her sister-wife didn’t want to believe the rumors going around the keep, but Lyanna wasn’t stupid, she started noticing the many times Rhaegar would spend hours in his office, most likely with that priestess.

Just like Elia, they both forgot about their husband and focused more on each other, until…

Elia’s thoughts were interrupted at the scraping of a chair; no one heard it but her. She thought Lya was going to pleasure herself in their chambers, and thought her plan was indeed screwed when Lya left the feast, but now until a few moments later, Arianne came back into the hall – with no sign of Daeron or Lyanna. She hoped they were together. Elia couldn’t believe she was all for her sister-wife and good-son to be together more than anything. It was wrong and sinful indeed, but Elia was Dornish above all.

The two never returned to the feast.

Elia realized Lyanna never returned to their chambers, which made her smile big that night. She slept wonderfully, pleasuring herself to a mind-blowing orgasm picturing Daeron and Lyanna together, fucking each others’ brains out.

She slept alone of course – Elia knew where her husband was sleeping. The Queen didn’t mind sleeping alone that night.

It was not until the early morning when her sister-wife came back to their chambers; hair strands plastered on her face, lips swollen, and… it seemed like she was still dripping with arousal when Elia came out of the closet in the room and kissed Lya hard. That morning ended with her wife on her back and Elia coming up from between Lya’s thighs, face full of her honey nectar and some of Daeron’s seed before she drank it down her throat.

Which brought them to where they were now… the sparring match coming to an end with, of course, Egg on his back. Soon, everyone vacated the premises, with Elia and Lyanna going their own ways – to visit an orphanage, like they always did together.

Night had approached when they arrived back at the Red Keep.

* * *

“Let me know how it goes, my love,” was all Lyanna heard before she exited the room the same way she came in, the secret passageway.

When she got to her son’s room, he was standing by his bed, naked and aroused. He was looking at her with intensity in those grey orbs. “Mother,” Daeron said, looking at her pretty face, her brown locks framing her lovely features. Lyanna slowly walked towards her son, his eyes roaming over her motherly figure with her hips shifting seductively, from side to side.

“My handsome son,” she said, a small wicked smile appearing on her lips. Daeron’s eyes traveled up and down her form; the thin robe she was wearing accentuated her womanly curves. “Mother, you are… gorgeous.”

She didn’t believe she could blush at his words, but she did. “Did you find any release before tonight?” She asked him, a now playful smile on her face as she grew closer to him.

“Only once, after my sparring match with Egg,” her son told her, his breathing became heavy. “I’ve… I’ve been waiting for you to visit me.”

“We’ll have to make sure we’re quieter this time, we can’t be loud like yesterday. There’s no feast, no noises to cover  _ our _ noises,” now Lyanna was breathing heavy just seeing her son in this state.

“Okay,” he replied, impatient to get his hands on his mother.

Without further ado, Lya shimmied her shoulders and let the dress fall smoothly from her body, revealing to her son that she was completely nude. “Mother…,” Daeron groaned at her soaked cunt, practically begging to be licked, and sucked, and fucked.

“Like what you see, baby?” She asked him, presenting her whole body to his hungry eyes, “Have you been thinking about me?”

“You know I have, mama,” her son replied, his eyes turning black like obsidian from just looking at her.

That was all it took for her; she took his face in her hands and brought his pouty lips onto her full ones. They kissed passionately, her tongue slipping deep into his mouth, him sucking on her tongue and both groaning at the action. They drew apart, leaving each other breathless from that kiss.

No time to waste, Lya dropped to her knees in front of her son and was directly in front of his throbbing member. “Gods, it’s so beautiful,” she said breathlessly, her flushed face inches from his erection. She stared at the stallion-like phallus, the engorged muscle standing straight up, its veins pulsing from each beat of his heart. His full and swollen balls hanging between his legs. Lya knew it wouldn’t be long before she had a belly full of his thick potent seed.

Daeron watched his mother stare closely at his huge dick, her grey eyes glazed over it with desire, her tongue seeping out of her mouth to wet her full lips. He flexed his cock, a gob of precum pulsing to the surface, the fluid starting to flow slowly down his upright shaft. “It’s all for you, mama. Suck it as much as you want.”

Lya reached out and wrapped her delicate hand around her son’s thick steel prick, her curling fingers not even meeting the base as she closed down onto the throbbing meat. She pumped slowly, causing another bead of precum to ooze out downwards, the shiny fluid dangling in a teasing way, and Lya’s mouth was salivating like a madwoman as she moved closer, feeling the heat from her son’s inflamed dick onto the skin of her flushed face. Her wet tongue extended out and captured the strand of milky fluid on the tip of her tongue, then sucked it back into her mouth and swallowed shamelessly.

“Mmmm,” she purred like a kitten as the tasty flavor slid down her throat, but it only served to stimulate her appetite for more. Nothing was going to stop her now, not until she got her son’s full load straight from the source. She stuck her tongue out again and licked upwards, her spit-drenched tongue sliding luxuriously over her son’s pulsing shaft. Her lips slipped over the broad head of Daeron’s cock, loving the intense sensation of her full lips stretched to the tearing point before she slipped down more over the thick ridge of his crown, the lemon-sized knob filling her mouth gloriously.

“Oh, mama, that feels good,” her son groaned as she rolled her tongue slowly around the plump-shaped head, bathing it with her gooey spit. He was surprised when she pulled her mouth off of his pulsing cock and looked up at him with loving eyes.

“Who’s guarding your chambers tonight?” She asked him.

“Ghost is keeping guard. I made Ser Jaime take the night off” was all her son said, making her smile wickedly…  _ nobody is definitely going to bother us _ , Lya thought about the huge white-fur Direwolf who’s always been by his master’s side. Lyanna quickly engulfed his cock once more, her lips starting to slide further down his cock. He watched as his mother bobbed up and down frantically on his cock, taking more and more of the pulsing member into her hot mouth. Daeron wished he lasted longer, but with the woman before him, sucking wantonly with her cheeks caving in; her face bouncing lewdly up and down over his rock-hard cock… did it for him.

“Ohh, I’m going to cum,” and he did. The first thick rope jet-streamed forth, pasting itself forcefully against the hot wet tissues deep inside Lya’s mouth. “OHHHH FUCKKKKKKK,” Her son moaned, his black onyx eyes looking at the woman before him, watching his throbbing dick go off inside his mother’s wet sucking mouth. He had always fantasized about this so many times since he started noticing his mother more; he fantasized his mother laying between his legs, sucking him off like one of the woman in a brothel, slurping and sucking for all she was worth, and not being satisfied until she’d swallowed every creamy drop from him.

Lyanna was loving every moment of it, the intense friction between her sucking mouth and her son’s pulsing cock sending shivers of delight right down to her wet, hot and throbbing cunt. The Prince’s engorged member continued to buck and twitch in her mouth, wad after wad of thick milky cream gushing into her mouth and splashing against the entrance of her throat. She swallowed, wanting to drain her son of every drop he had for her. And Jon continued, his seed pouring directly and flooding his mother’s mouth with his precious seed. Lya swallowed again, and then another before his climax slowed, and a final shudder ran down his spine - the last of his discharge oozing out onto her wet tongue. She continued to suck gently, her lips and tongue nursing the seeping cockhead. With a final loving kiss on the very tip of his cock, she sat back and looked up at her boy, his eyes looking at her lovingly as he stood there on shaking legs, his muscular chest heaving as he fought to regain his breath.

“Oh, mama, that was amazing,” Daeron pulled his mother up and towards him, his lips meeting hers. Lyanna parted his lips to stick her tongue into his mouth, his own tongue rolling filthily over hers. He kissed her hard, the dragon-wolf within him only temporarily sated.

“Mother, now it’s my turn to please you,” he said as he had his mother sit on his bed.

“Alright, my sweet,” Lyanna replied to her son. “Are you sure about this? I’m pretty wet, my son.” She gave her son a nasty smile.

Her son looked at her smooth tone thighs and his mouth began to drool at the sight. “Yes, mama you know I love it when you’re wet - just like last night. I love the taste of you. I just wish I could eat you all night long.”

Her son’s wicked words almost made her climax on the spot – a son telling his mother that he’d love to eat from their hot wet cunt ‘all night long.’ Maybe one night, if they continued doing this, she could have her son eat her out for however long he wants, but this wasn’t one of those nights. “You want this, sweetie? I’ve been dripping all day,” she was teasing him, and hearing her son whine pitifully had her dripping more; she put her hand on his head, and grabbed a tight hold of his nice curls.

“Oh, gods, please,” he begged, scooting closer between his mother’s thighs and inhaled the arousal scent of her cunt.

That pleased Lyanna enough; she leaned back towards the centre of the bed and set the pillows to support herself. Daeron’s eyes grew wider in anticipation as he watched more and more of his mother’s legs spreading. She gave him a seductive smile and spread her legs wider, her dripping wet cunt shamelessly on display.

“Thank the old gods and new,” her son muttered under his breath as he quickly dove for his mother’s lewdly spread thighs. Lya’s crotch was soaked, the mound of her sex and inner thighs were glistening with her womanly juices. He pressed the flat of his tongue on the inside of one thigh and licked up, the exhilarating flavor of her nectar stimulating his taste.

“Mmmm,” he moaned in pleasure as he shifted from one milky thigh to the other, his lapping tongue gathering her honey juices. With both of her thighs clean, he pressed his face right up against her wet mound, his lips and tongue working to suck up as much of her oozing elixir as he could get.

Then, the Prince went to work on licking her pussy, and the vision of Lya’s son's head working between her thighs had her closing her eyes in bliss, groaning at what his tongue was doing to her. “Oh, gods, Daeron, that’s good,” she groaned again, her son’s tongue now deep inside her hot snatch. He circled his tongue all around the hot moist tissues inside her dripping trench, his probing muscle bringing her to a much needed release. He withdrew his tongue from inside her and slipped his pouty lips over her stiff bud of her inflamed clit. He clamped tightly and Lya felt the tip of his tongue bathe the sensitive pearl with his hot wet spit. Lyanna’s release came quicker than she thought.

“Ohhhhhhh yessssssss,” she hissed, eyes rolling back into her head as she climaxed. Her body was shaking from the intense sensations, her hips bucking up against her son’s working mouth as he licked and sucked on her throbbing clit. Daeron felt his mother’s juices gushing out, the warm discharge of her nectar splashing against his chin. He rolled his tongue firmly around the engorged clit within his mouth, and was rewarded with a deep-throated groan from his mother as she flexed her pulsing cunt up against his face. Her release lasted long, the delicious sensations of a nerve-tingling climax coursing luxuriously through her motherly body. Jon still continued to suck and lick at his mother’s clit as the exquisite waves of orgasmic bliss rolled through her again and again. As the twitching slowed down, Jon slid his lips downward, his eager mouth feasting on her flowing juices, drinking all of what she released to him. The wet sloppy sound of his enthusiastic licking echoed throughout his chambers.

Lyanna looked down at her son through lust-filled eyes, her wanton desires only temporarily satisfied. “I needed that, my sweet son.” She reached down with both of her hands and took her son’s head in them. “How about we go for another one, yes?” Her Prince nodded eagerly from his spot between her widely-spread thighs; Lyanna pulled his face firmly against her pulsing snatch, setting her legs more wider apart and opening herself more to him.

Daeron enjoyed being in this moment, eating his mother and hopefully bringing her to another climax - this was something he dreamed about doing so many times. And now, here he was, between his mother’s thighs; there was no other place he would be at this moment.

“Oh fuck, that feels good,” Lya moaned as her son softly and slowly drank from her, her oozing cunt flooding his mouth with her precious honey nectar. After minutes of probing and licking deep within her sodden pussy, he brought his mouth back to the swollen pebble at the top of her glistening mound.

“Ohhh fuckkkkkk,” Lya moaned as she rolled her hips slightly against her son’s beautiful mouth, the wonderful thrills starting to take over her tingling body once more. Daeron feverishly attacked her clit, and it wasn’t long before she had that second orgasm she’d asked from her son. Yet, he still didn’t stop. She was quivering and convulsing from her second climax, and her son kept licking and sucking, just ravishing her with his lips and tongue. He brought her to a third, and then a fourth nerve-racking release before she had to push him, her body just too sensitive to the point of collapse.

Lyanna lay there, recovering from that intense pleasure her son had just given her again… like the night before. She realized in that moment, how much she loved him, adored him even - she loved more than a mother should love her son. No one had ever pleasured her  _ that much _ , with their mouth like her son had. The only other person who had pleased with their mouth was her sister-wife, Elia Martell, but even she didn’t compare to the talent her son had with his tongue. Rhaegar… not once, went down on either of his wives, saying it wasn’t right for a man to go down on a woman, yet he expected both of his wives to go down on him. That all changed with her son, he was so eager to please her, without expecting her to reciprocate - willing to do whatever to her for as long as she wanted. Lya loved her boy with all her heart, and she knew she’d do whatever she could to bring him as much pleasure as he’d given her.

Daeron looked up towards his mother, her body slumped back on the pillows, her legs still slightly shaking from the aftershocks of her climax. Her eyes closed and her breaths ragged; she tried to regain her breathing after the exquisite phenomenon of climax after climax after another from her son. She looked incredibly sexy with her long toned legs lewdly spread on display. Her son looked up at her chest, her breasts bared to his eyes, her stiff swollen nipples wanting to be sucked on.

He loved seeing his mother like this, blissfully happy and intensely satisfied from something he did for her. He loved being between her legs, feasting on her dripping cunt, and drinking her womanly juices making him satisfied, but not enough however.

Daeron fantasized so many times about pleasing his mother in any way possible, of doing whatever he could to bring her to the highest pleasure she had ever received. If she wanted his mouth, he’d pleasure her all night long with his sinful mouth. If she wanted his cock, he'd be able to get hard fast enough for her, whenever she needed his fat shaft until she’s begging for him to stop. He’d do whatever she wanted, anytime… anywhere. But, right in this moment, he had something else that he knew would make both of them happy and satisfied.

“Are you ready for me, mama?” He asked his mother, lifting himself till his cock was level with his mother’s swollen pussy lips. His cock was rock-hard like Valyrian steel and ready to penetrate deep into her hot, wet and smooth walls of her vagina.

From her slumped position on the bed, Lyanna looked between her legs to where her son’s stiff member stood up stallion-like, the huge head of his cock looked swollen and angry. She saw the wicked smile on his face as he wrapped his hand around the thick hard shaft - pumping slowly - and pointed the tip towards her splayed-open cunt. “My son, I don’t know… I’m too sensi-,” her words were interrupted as his enormous cock-head pressed forcefully against her and began stretching her pussy-lips wide.

“Ohhhh gods,” she moaned deep in her throat as her son slowly forced himself deeper inside her. She scrunched the silky sheets in her hands and gritted her teeth as Jon pushed more of his thick meat deeper, stretching the tissues inside her tight cunt.

“Fuck, mama, you’re so hot and tight,” Daeron said as he witnessed inch after inch of his cock disappear inside his mother’s hot gripping hole. He flexed forwards and drove more of his thick shaft deeper and deeper into her clutching vagina. Her slick labia was stretching tightly around his penetrating dick, gripping it like she never wanted to let go of it.

“Ohhh fuck,” Lyanna groaned as her head rolled from side to side. “So big… and hard for mama,” her body was tensing as her son went deeper into her silky insides, wanting to insert all of him inside her. She could feel him slowly, firmly, going past the point he went last night - not even her husband went that deep before. A final upward thrust from him, driving the last few inches of his cock all the way inside her, his pelvis slammed against her as the head of his member bumped against her womb.

“Yesssss, my sweet baby boy,” Lyanna moaned loudly, the feeling of her son’s huge cock pressing up against her cervix had triggered another orgasm deep within her; this one shaking her whole body. Her whole figure twitching and bucking on the thick hard tool being driven deep into her, her womanly body flailing about like a doll as wave after wave of mind-blowing delight crashed through her.

Daeron held on tightly to his mother as she convulsed and shook beneath him, his prick buried to the hilt inside her tight-gripping twat. He stayed still until she slowly started to diminish then… only then did he start to fuck her hard and fast.

“Oh, gods, uhhhh…,” Lyanna’s body quivered and shook through a small orgasm as her son pumped back and forth, driving his raging cock all the way into her again and again. The sound of skin on skin slapping against each other was heard throughout the room. She was gasping and moaning from his thrusts, her body feeling like a never-ending as she continued to climax again; his hard thick cock stretching and filling her like never before.

The Prince’s own climax was nearing its approach, the muscles inside his mother’s cunt, gripping and pulling him with each of his driving thrusts. Though his mother looked on the brink of passing out, she still rolled her hips teasingly, the hot wet tissues of her pussy walls enveloping his engorged erection in a hot buttery sheath. He felt his heavy balls drawing up closer to his body and he knew, he knew he was close.

“Uhhh, mama, here it comes,” he warned his mother as he slammed himself fully into her, his midsection pressed flush up against her mound. The white creamy fluid flowed up the shaft of his cock and spewed forth, pasting itself against the opening to her womb.

“Not again… ahhhhh,” Lyanna gasped as another shocking tremor raced through her body. She was gripping the sheets in a death grip as she felt her son going off inside her, his cock continuing to spit and shoot her cunt with his potent seed.

Daeron held himself tight to his mother, her mature cunt working to pull every creamy drop from his cock. He knew he never climaxed so hard in his life; he wanted to savor this sensational moment of filling his mother with his milky seed. He kept shooting, wad after was of his thick seed shooting into the depths of her steaming cunt. The tingling sensations of their mutual orgasms were slowly diminishing, leaving both of them breathless. Lyanna slumped deeper into the pillows and bed, while he looked at his mother’s beautiful face and sweaty body - at that moment, he wanted more.

“I love you so much, mama,” he said as he withdrew himself and wrapped a hand on each of her ankles and raised her legs high up in the air and as far out to each side as he could reach, spreading her to him which had her pussy lips opening to his eyes. Lyanna was so exhausted from what her son did to her that she could only lie back and wait for what her son was going to do to her. He leaned forward and pushed his huge thick cock back into her tight wet cunt.

It was the hour of the wolf when Daeron helped his mother into his bed, his arm slung around her and supporting her as he pulled the silk sheets over their sweaty bodies; the cool breeze making its way into his room cooling their bodies from the fucking they just finished.

Lyanna felt there was no way she could move, even if she tried. She lay in her son’s bed, fucked to the point of exhaustion, not able to think straight, yet she felt satisfied. She definitely lost track of the amount of times she climaxed. Orgasm after orgasm as her son turned her every which way possible, his cock burying itself all the way into her in each different position.

She closed her eyes again and Lya knew she was going to sleep good that night. The last thing she felt was her son pulling her body to him, her head laying on his chest, her leg straddling half of his body; she felt her pussy leaking the loads her son laid into her onto his body and the sheets they were laying on. She sighed happily, sleep starting to overcome her tiring body. She smiled a small smile, knowing this night ended better than she expected. Lyanna Stark Targaryen drifted off into a pleasurable dream.

Outside of Jon’s room, in the secret hallway, Elia Martell was on the brink of collapse from the great climax she just experienced moments ago. She tasted herself and wondered what it would feel like to have her son deep inside her.

_ Which son? _ Elia didn’t have an answer for that.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daeron Targaryen travels to the wall to meet with a valuable prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I hope all you who are reading this story (and/or my other stories) are doing well and staying safe.
> 
> Now, I know I have responded back to readers, telling them I would've posted this chapter a couple months back, but as always life gets in the way. I could only say I am sorry. Also, I promised to release the second chapter on Sunday, but as I was proofreading the chapter, I saw I needed to make some changes (add some words to the already huge chapter) to at least put some background information into it. Hence, why it took me longer to post it.
> 
> This chapter might confuse you, considering the timeline is all over the place, but I tried my best to make to where you can understand it, hopefully. If you're still confused with it, I will help out as best as I can, without spoiling anything. :)
> 
> Now that I have the chapter done and everything, here's 18K words. :)

**Daeron**

Daeron was cold, despite the many layers of clothing he was wearing. But, his excuse as to why he was cold, was where he was at; the Wall. He never loved this place; not a day went by where he didn’t think about what had happened the last two times he had visited the Wall.

The first had been a fortnight after he received the Valyrian sword, Blackfyre, from his father for saving Princess Arianne and her cousin, Tyene Sand, from an attack on them both when they were roaming the streets of King’s Landing. Daeron was sure if he hadn’t stepped in to help, something terrible would've happened to them both, especially the woman he now called his wife and who is the mother of his daughter, Elaena Targaryen; Ari was no more the Princess of Dorne, but now the Princess of Summerhall. And Tyene would warm their bed every now and then whenever they got together.

His family was still shaken up - the Martell family had quickly left the city a week later after the incident. When Daeron decided he would pay a visit to his great-uncle Aemon at the Wall, it was then that  _ everything _ changed for Prince Daeron, and House Targaryen in a way.

A battle - or rather a battle to test the strength of the Wall’s defenses, Daeron later found out - had happened the moment Daeron had arrived at Castle Black. He was knocked out during battle when his head smacked hard onto a strong surface. He had lost a lot of blood from the hit, and from the cuts he received; Daeron didn’t remember much after that. Didn’t remember being taken to their camp, where the rest of the Wildling army was. Didn’t remember meeting the King Beyond the Wall, Mance Rayder, and the questions that he asked. But one thing Daeron did remember, was the torturing that they did to him - the marks were proof of it. As were the nightmares he would get more as he grew older.

Most of the other stuff that happened, were but a blur in his head; memories mixing with other memories, making it harder for him to distinguish what was what, and who was who.

But he could never forget  _ her _ .

The one thing he found out, once his memory was coming back to him, was Mance’s reason to not kill him, but to use him instead. To make him as one of their own,  _ a Free Folk _ , was what they called themselves. He wanted to use the Prince against his own family, but no matter what, Daeron would never go against his own family; he would rather take his own life than kill any one of his family members.

Daeron knew then and there, that he had to escape, but he couldn’t do it without help. And help he got, from a woman named Val, who was a great companion to Daeron,  _ well more than just a companion _ . Remembering her, and them both together, had brought a smile to Daeron’s face that was gone quickly; he wondered what she looked like now,  _ most likely beautiful still _ , he thought sadly. He also wondered if she was safe, or alive at least; Daeron hoped she was. With the help from Val, he was able to sneak away from the encampment, and had escaped free from the Wildlings, somehow making it back to the gates of Castle Black.

But not without receiving multiple arrows from a red-haired woman, that he remembered seeing throughout the camp, and would give him curious looks the whole time he was with them.

Daeron was saved in time, by his uncle Aemon and both were sure that any longer would’ve been death for the young Prince.

Before he left, his uncle had given him back Blackfyre, a smile gracing his old features. Aemon cradled his nephew’s face with one hand, as Daeron took the sword from him. “It brings me great joy to know you are alive, my boy. But, there are going to be those who are going to use, what you’ve been through, to their advantages. You must stay strong through it all, Daeron.”

“I will, uncle,” he responded, nodding his head.

His uncle looked to him, and Daeron could see tears welling in his eyes. “Once you reach King’s Landing, you will learn about what has happened since you've been gone.” He took hold of Daeron’s hand and continued with a firmer tone, “Kill the boy, Daeron Targaryen. Beware the winter that will soon be upon us all. You must kill the boy, and let the man be born.”

His words made Daeron feel uneasy, and his whole body shivered. He could only stare at his uncle, who now turned his gaze to the fireplace; it looked as if the fire was dancing in the blindness of his eyes.

“A Targaryen, alone in the world, is a terrible thing.”

* * *

His family had been surprised to see him when he arrived back in King’s Landing. Why wouldn’t they be, when it was told to them that the young Prince had died during the raid on the Wall. But, considering that didn’t happen, and he was instead captured by the Wildlings, Daeron was sure if he hadn’t gotten some or any of his memory back, he would’ve fought against his family. 

But he was glad it didn’t come to that. He didn’t have much to say when they asked him questions about Mance Rayder and the army he had; the council had looks of disappointment when he couldn’t even answer one of their questions. One of them being the King, his father, which truly made Daeron hate himself for not at least trying.

They believed he was protecting the Wildlings, but that was far from it; he really couldn’t remember much about his time with the Wildlings. Once he did get his memory back, Daeron knew he needed to get away from them.

Nonetheless, his  _ father’s  _ disappointment hit deeply for Daeron Targaryen.

There were those who were upset with him being back  _ home _ also - those wanting to use his returning for their own wills - but there were also those that were happy and glad he was back with his family. Daeron remembered the way his mother had hugged him tightly, almost like he wasn’t real and it was some sort of sorcery that was making her believe that her son was alive, but it wasn’t until the rest of his family came up to him, wanting to see if he was real as well.

Lyanna was hugging her son so tight, Daeron was sure he was going to pass out from not getting enough air in his lungs. She released him quickly and stared into his gray eyes that were very much like her own. The only word he spoke to her was, ‘Mother,’ before tears started pouring down her face. After that, Daeron had received hugs from the rest of his family, but they were quick with tears in their eyes after they embraced him.

His little sister, who was reluctant to let her big brother go, was pulled away from him by their grandmother. Daeron remembered smiling at little Visenya, who was crying from being plucked from him. 

His father, however, only gave him a pat on the shoulder and said to him, ‘It’s  _ good _ to see you back  _ home _ .’ Daeron couldn’t believe he was speaking to him, the same way he did before he departed on his trip north: with no warmth in his voice like before, his amethyst eyes looking lifeless as he gazed at his son who was practically brought back from the dead.

Daeron didn’t know what to make of it, but that was when their relationship went downhill from there. His father’s attitude toward him was one of the reasons he acted the way he did now; their close relationship Daeron had with his father took a drastic toll.

It’s what made the Prince do things he never would’ve done before. 

It’s what made him fall into bed with his older sister, and his aunt,  _ and  _ his mother.

His mother quickly pulled him away and took him towards the maester’s chambers to look over his then, healing injuries.

But before they left to do so, Daeron had questioned where Viserys was at. He had only received looks of sadness from his mother and grandmother. Daeron wasn’t expecting the words to come out of his grandmother’s mouth: since him supposedly dying in the battle at the Wall, a couple things had happened. One was about a month after his ‘death,’ the King had sent his brother, Viserys Targaryen, to travel to Essos on a diplomatic mission; though, on his way to Essos, a storm hit and killed everyone on board the ship. Word had gotten to the Royal family that none survived, including Daeron’s uncle, Viserys.

Not one, but two members from the Targaryen household were taken from the world, and only within a moon’s time. Daeron’s and Viserys’  _ deaths _ hit the Royal family hard and that was when this next event took place: the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Though Daeron didn’t understand much, considering the remedy he was taking, that the maester had given him, which made him tired most of the time. But, it was said Balon Greyjoy had open-rebelled against the crown, most likely believing it was the right time to overthrow house Targaryen and take control over Westeros, as their new King.

Lord Balon thought it was the perfect time to strike, when the Royal family was at their weakest. How wrong he was to believe so. The war lasted for about six moon’s turn, just a couple months before Daeron would escape the Wildlings’ camp. Balon’s army lost, with the help from House Velaryon, who had surprised Balon’s fleet with overrunning and destroying all of his ships with his many more ships. It was also much easier to defeat and finish the Greyjoy’s army on land. It was said his army looked as if they had no training in swordfighting, which made it easier for King Rhaegar’s army to slice and kill them like butter.

The war ended when Balon Greyjoy dropped to his knees before the true King, and begged for forgiveness. The only survivors from his side were his son and daughter, Theon and Asha Greyjoy and his brother, Euron Greyjoy, however it was said that he had fled west and hadn't been seen since.

For Balon’s treasonous acts, the King had punished him by taking both of his children away and sending them to be hostages, or rather ward’s, to other houses: Theon Greyjoy was taken by Daeron’s other family, the Starks; whereas, Asha Greyjoy was taken by house Arryn.

Till this day, both were still ward’s to those great houses.

Later that night, once his family had told him what had happened during that terrible year, Daeron went to sleep, and it was then the nightmares had begun.

* * *

Another reason as to why he hated the Wall: it was where his great-uncle Aemon Targaryen had passed away one year after his return to his family. The news had hit hard for the Targaryen family, especially himself and his aunt Daenerys. Both had liked to visit their uncle more than anybody else - Aemon appreciated any visit from his family.

Daeron, Rhae, Dany, and Aegon had decided themselves to take a trip to the Wall, to give their uncle a proper funeral; the Targaryen way. That was also the moment everything changed for house Targaryen.

Upon arriving at the Wall, they were immediately taken to the chambers where their uncle lay, lifeless and cold, on a table. A large chest was the next thing they noticed after seeing their uncle; never did Daeron notice a large trunk whenever he visited his uncle, but there it was, at the end of the table by Aemon’s feet. All four of them had confused looks on each of their faces. Daeron remembered opening the chest with shaking hands, and what was revealed to them had them gasping in surprise. Inside the large chest: six stone-looking eggs laid next to each other with a note that read, ‘For the young ones of House Targaryen.’

Rhaenys had picked up a beautifully golden egg, mixed with pale pink swirls. Aegon had chosen a deep-colored green egg, with bronze flecks that shone from the way he turned it. Dany’s was a crimson red egg, with black ripples and swirls. And Daeron’s was a shade of black, like onyx, with ripples of sapphire around the egg. Of the last two eggs, one was colored a dark shade of blue, with swirls of yellow and was gifted to his younger sister, Senya Targaryen; the other was a pale cream and streaked with gold colored egg. In Daeron’s mind, that would’ve been the one for his uncle.

Upon picking up the egg, Daeron was immediately bewildered at how very warm it felt in his hands. He had expected it to be cold, but that was not the case; it was almost as if there was a living creature inside.  _ The dragons are all but extinct now, they’re just nothing but stone eggs now _ , Daeron remembered thinking as he was turning the egg. They were left unsure of what to do with the eggs at the time, so they continued on with their plan, and the reason why they had come up north. 

After setting the pyre up and placing their uncle Aemon on, they had all made a last-minute decision to place all the eggs onto the pyre, to place them all around Aemon Targaryen’s body; they had said it felt right to do so. After everything was set, they each did their part in setting the pyre on fire with the torches they held.

The tears had come again when Daeron, Rhae, Dany, and Aegon had stood next to each other, their hands interlocked tightly. They lost a great and amazing member of house Targaryen. A wise man who should’ve been with his family instead of rotting in that dreadful place.

Though, it wasn’t until after they had no more tears to spill, where all that was left was smoke and ash filling the air, was when Daeron made the first step forward. It was as if something was telling him to go towards the burnt pyre. His siblings and aunt were looking at him, unsure of what he was doing, but he didn’t care, for his eyes were set on something moving in the smoke. It was then he heard it, and he was sure the others had also, for they also started to slowly move closer as well.

It was then they all had heard a shriek.

The moment the smoke had disappeared, the Targaryen children had halted their movements. Daeron, being the closest one, continued moving forward until he recognized the onyx-colored creature, uncurling itself and Daeron immediately picked it up, holding it close to his chest. He wasn’t afraid, but rather he was drawn to it like how he was when he had found Ghost and his Direwolf siblings just a few years before. The small dragon had climbed its way onto Daeron’s shoulder and stared at him, its eyes red like molten lava staring deep into Daeron’s gray-colored eyes; it turned its attention to the other people present, and made a chirping sound, its head tilting in a way that seemed adorable in Daeron’s mind (he wouldn’t tell anybody he thought of that though). Afterwards, his siblings and aunt had gone to pick the other dragons up and perch them on their shoulders; Daeron had also perched the blue-colored dragon on his shoulder, and Dany had done the same for the cream-colored dragon.

The onyx one, the first out of the others, had unfolded its wings far and wide as possible, stirring them in the air, and the magnificent beast had screeched loudly for all to hear. The other dragons, its siblings, had followed and done the same, adding their voices to the call. That night had come alive with the melody of dragons.

They had brought dragons back.  _ No one else… we did. _

* * *

Remembering that moment had brought back the smile onto Daeron’s face, and he quickly gazed back and upward towards the onyx beast. Yes, he hated the Wall for all that's happened here, but it was also what gave him this gorgeous beast. The beautiful creature he called his, yet it was never his to begin with.  _ A dragon is not a slave _ , Daeron remembered his aunt telling him one night. Vermithor, the name he had chosen for the dragon, was the biggest out of his siblings, with Dany’s Vhagar just slightly smaller than his.

That year, when they arrived back in King’s Landing, the common folk were in awe at the seeing dragons come again into the world; once they made it to the Red Keep, they heard the gasps from the rest of their family, Daeron’s grandmother had tears streaming down her face with a hand covering her mouth, and even Ghost looked amazed at the sight before him. Though, Daeron was sure the wolf saw the dragon as competition.

His sister had come sprinting towards them, and immediately took the other dragon, that was still perched on his other shoulder, into her arms; she had come up with a name for the dragon, calling it Caraxes and perching it onto her small shoulder. The dragon itself had curled onto her, finding comfort and settling in like they were made for each other. His older siblings had come up with names, on their way down south: Rhaenys had named hers, Sunfyre, Egg had named his, Quicksilver. The other dragon, who was riderless, was named Syrax; the family had come up with it, saying it felt right to name it so, in honor of Viserys.

The reaction Rhaegar had, angered Daeron the most of all. No tears, nothing, just a scared looking man when gazing at the small dragons. His face went cold, emotionless, and he turned his gaze to Daeron, practically blaming him for what he'd done, or that was how Daeron took it. He left not a moment later, and Daeron held the tears back.

Time had passed, the dragons grew bigger and larger, and it was time for the Targaryen children to ride them. Once they caught on with the flying process, they immediately wanted to take their grandmother to fly. Rhaella had first ridden on Vermithor - since the dragon was the fastest one to grow - and afterwards, would always caress the dragon’s snout, and would also do the same to each of her children and grandchildren’s dragons. Her violet eyes had unshed tears in them, but Daeron knew they were happy tears.

The Prince had never seen his grandmother that happy in a long time and when they had landed onto the ground that first time, whatever she felt came pouring out from her eyes. Once Daeron was sure, Rhaella had no more tears to spill, he brought her in for a hug, letting her know that no matter what, everything was going to be ok.

Rhaella smiled lovingly and hugely at him, something that he always tried to bring out of her, and said, “Thank you, my sweet. Thank you very much for this, Daeron.” She looked back to Vermithor, the huge smile still plastered on her still young-looking face, “So, that is what it feels like to ride a dragon. I’ve never felt more alive, or free.”

Vermithor had set his wing down, signaling to Rhaella that he wouldn’t mind taking her to the skies again, but his grandmother only shook her head. “I can’t right now, I need to rest my old, tired body.”

“You are anything but old, grandmother.” Daeron quickly responded back, for it was true. Yes, his grandmother was close to turning sixty, yet she looked only a few months older than Dany. Rhaella had only gotten more beautiful as she aged, but as she says to him and the others, ‘my bones don’t agree with my age.’

“You flatter me, grandson of mine,” she waved at him, but Daeron could see the small light blush adorning her pale cheeks.

“And you are the fiercest person I know.” His grandmother just looked at him with appreciating eyes, and walked towards him, hips swaying and he tried not to look. “You have a way with words, Daeron.”

She curled her hand around his arm, and as he was about to speak, she interrupted him in a firm tone, “Don’t you dare deny that to me, Daeron Targaryen.” The Prince kept his mouth shut, but a small smile formed on his lips.  _ No one can compare to grandmother. _

* * *

Vermithor had set its gaze on Daeron when he placed his hand onto the dragon’s snout and rubbed it gently, earning a soft purr from the dragon. He always did enjoy the caresses he was given by Daeron.

Ghost and Vermithor, both significant creatures, who grew up together and grew to be larger than their siblings; Ghost had grown to be roughly the same size as a full grown stallion, and Vermithor was now bigger than that of the mammoths he had seen when he was among the Wildlings - Daeron did remember those and the giants. He never told the King and his advisors, for he believed they would think he was lying.

His bond with Vermithor was almost like that with his Direwolf, Ghost; most times he would spend more time with his dragon and Ghost would get jealous for not getting some of his master’s attention, or Vermithor would be jealous in his own way if Daeron coddled Ghost too much. It was like a game to them, wanting Daeron’s attention more than the other. He could never get away from the two, attached to his hip like a second sword; well that’s how Ghost would be, Vermithor would either be flying above him or at a close enough distance to make other people afraid to approach the Prince.

“Are you the reason why I don’t have many friends?” He asked the dragon with a small chuckle. Upon hearing his voice, Vermithor had opened its eyes, molten colored staring deep into his dark gray ones. It was somewhat of a lie of course, Daeron did actually have some friends, though whenever his dragon was near, those friends didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

All Vermithor did was puff a pit of black smoke, making Daeron chuckle more. He was not cold anymore, the heat radiating off the dragon made him warmer; he didn’t have the dragon’s blood like his aunt or Egg or Rhae, who were hot to the touch. He was the opposite. Cold like ice.

He pulled his hand away, and walked a few steps back. Vermithor growled deeply, missing his touch. “You know why we came here… why  _ I _ came here.” It wasn’t a question, but reassurance for the dragon and himself. They were at the Wall for a reason. That reason being Mance Rayder, who was found and captured by the night’s watchmen on a scout for Wildlings, and instead found the false king all by himself. They held him prisoner and the news of his capture was brought to King’s Landing. King Rhaegar had demanded that Prince Daeron be the one to interrogate, then execute the King Beyond the Wall. It was apparent that Daeron himself was the one to do it, considering he had spent the most time with the Wildlings. They all believed he could find out information as to why they haven’t attacked since his capture, and anything else he could take out of the false king.  _ I’ll be useless again and disappoint my father _ , Daeron hated thinking like that.

Daeron didn’t voice it, but he was sure Mance wouldn’t give him anything.  _ It’s going to be a waste of a trip _ , is what he thought then before agreeing with the plan with a nod like the dutiful son he was. Whenever his father asked Daeron to do things like this, he was more than willing to comply, hoping to show his father that he was a good son,  _ I’m far from being a good son though _ . He wanted to go back to how they used to be. That father and son relationship Daeron cherished, but alas, he was sure it was never going to go back to how it was.

‘Get your revenge for what they did to you,’ is what his father had told him, alone when everyone had left the room, save for himself and his father. Daeron had nodded his head again impassively, wanting to leave already.  _ Is it truly revenge, if I don’t remember anything they had done to me? _ He didn’t like the plan, but he would do what was asked of him. And before he left, the King squeezed his shoulder and turned his gaze to the many scrolls on his desk, dismissing him. So, Daeron Targaryen left silently and quickly, out of the room and walked to where Vermithor was. He wanted it done as quickly as possible, with no delay.

Daeron stared wondrously at the Wall, admiring it for a little bit like he’d always done when visiting. Yes, there were bad memories there, but there were also good ones, and one of them was right behind him. He looked back to Vermithor and said to him, “I’ll try to make this quick.” He took a deep breath and exhaled, “Be safe.” With that, he started his journey to Castle Black.

The dragon stared at the retreating form for a bit, always protective for its rider, until it stretched its wings wide and took to the air with a deep and loud roar.  _ Always looking out for me, aren't you _ ? were Daeron’s thoughts, a smile creeping onto his face and warmth spreading throughout his whole body. 

_ We fear nothing _ .

* * *

Daeron had left his room, which was assigned to him by the Lord Commander, and started the trek to where Mance was being held. He barely ate anything, choosing to instead drink more of the ale than he should’ve, yet he did not feel the least bit drunk. It was beginning to get colder as the last rays of sunlight drained away to make the grounds of Castle Black darker than before. The plan was to execute Mance before the day's end, not wanting to keep him prisoner longer than he’s been.

Beheading the false king was something Daeron never believed he would do, with his own hands nonetheless. But he felt it was his duty to do so. ‘The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.’ Daeron remembered his Uncle Ned telling him when he was but a young boy, and it had him questioning those words to himself; could he actually pull through and do what must be done? He never killed a man, unarmed; Daeron was unsure how he would feel afterwards.

Daeron was also unsure on how the conversation with Mance would go; he wondered if he remembered him. His face turned into a grimace where he lightly touched one of the many cuts and whiplashes that adorned his body. Only a few had seen them - and with  _ those _ that he had bedded, Daeron would either take them from behind or leave his undershirt on, the latter being his usual preference.

He was embarrassed for others to see what the Wildlings had done to him. Daeron would hate the looks that would be thrown his way, the whispers he would hear, all of it. The maester, his older sister, his aunt, grandmother, and his mother were the only ones who had seen the injuries he sustained when he arrived back in King’s Landing.

Rhae had found out one day when she snuck into his room at night, and had found him fast asleep, shirtless like he always is; Daeron remembered how protective she became the next day and the many days after that. With Lyanna, on that day the maester looked over his body - Daeron remembered seeing the tears streaming down his mother’s face and the scene before him had made it hate himself for making his mother sad; he made a promise to never see her sad again. Daeron Targaryen always liked seeing his mother happy.

Reliving that moment, had brought back memories of the time Daeron spent with his mother just a week past, the time he had fucked her to exhaustion. He didn’t regret it, not one bit and he hoped his mother felt the same. Yet, both would need to talk about what they did… that is, if they can keep their hands to themselves and not try to rip each other’s clothes off the moment they were alone. The people of Westeros wouldn’t take too kindly, if any word of what he and his mother did, got out. The repercussions that would unfold…  _ no _ , Daeron wouldn’t think about it now.  _ We’ll deal with it, when the time comes _ . Yet, thinking more of their time together caused a stirring in his loins, but he needed to put that off; he couldn’t go and talk to Mance with a hard-on.

_ Calm yourself Daeron _ .  _ Breathe _ .

He was busy thinking about his mother, Daeron didn’t realize he now stood just outside the room Mance was being held in.  _ No time to think about that other stuff now _ , Daeron thought before taking a deep breath and locked eyes with the guard in front of him, and nodded at him to open the door.

He was greeted with the sight of a man who looked exhausted and spent, his body leaning on the wall, in the far end of the cell. A plate that looked untouched and uneaten, was set by the door when Daeron entered. He sighed, unsure of how long it has been since the man has eaten. The Lord Commander had informed him that they had found and captured the false king a fortnight ago.

Before he could speak, Mance spoke first, “Prince Daeron Targaryen, son of King Rhaegar Targaryen and Queen Lyanna Stark.” He chuckled weakly, turning his head and glancing at the Prince with weary old eyes. “You look the same, just like all those years ago.”

“You remember me then.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I do. I could never forget a face like yours.” He grinned, and Daeron noticed several of his teeth missing. “And I know why you’re here, Daeron.” Of course he knew why, no Prince of the realm would travel all the way from anywhere to this dreary place they called the Wall, just to have a sweet and nice conversation with the watchmen. Daeron knew Mance wasn’t stupid like some people he knew, but still, he came to the Wall for answers.

_ I hope to get something out of you, Mance _ . “Then you know what I want from you,” Daeron wanted this done quickly, he felt it was taking too long, considering it only just started.

Mance tried chuckling again, but instead coughed. “What _you _want, or what _your_ King and _his_ _people_ want?” He asked with a sneer, the lines on Mance’s face could be seen more clearly, the greys mixing with the brown of his hair, and just his form was showing how old he’d become since the last time the two were together.

It didn’t bother Daeron in the slightest, he knew how much this man hated the King, like some people south of the Wall; although, they were more silent about it. But as the days went on, the whispers started to dwindle away till only the whispers came from those who absolutely hated King Rhaegar; the whispers were about how King Rhaegar would damage Westeros beyond repair, or that he wasn’t the right King to rule over Westeros, or on how they still blamed him for the Greyjoy Rebellion, and so much more stories that spread across the country. 

Westeros flourished, a few years after Robert’s Rebellion, and the King was able to keep the peace for a good time, until the Greyjoy Rebellion happened. However, it took less time to make the country flourish again, and the peace has lasted. Many became surprised at how well his father was at ruling. Surprised at all the good he was doing for the citizens of Westeros, considering the way Aerys was as King.

But, there were those who wished it wasn’t the Targaryens that still ruled. Like Mance… and the Lord Commander: Stannis Baratheon. His anger had slowly diminished in his time at the Wall however.

Staring into Mance’s eyes, Daeron nodded his head at the question that was asked towards him, it was true after all.

The false king scoffed, “Of course you are.” He stared at Daeron with stone-cold eyes, making him uncomfortable and confused. “Though, you won’t believe anythin’ I say.”

_ Most likely won’t, but… _ , “Why haven’t you and your army attacked yet? I mean, truly attacked, with  _ your _ whole army?” Daeron added after, his voice low.

“We  _ were _ waitin’ for the right opportunity,” he said quickly after Daeron asked his question.

“But somethin’ happened…”  _ Something had to have happened for him not to attack _ .

“Aye,” was Mance’s only response, still staring intensely at the Prince.

Daeron waited patiently for the man to explain further.

“We were attacked,” he said softly and quietly, yet Daeron still heard him all the same.

“By who?”  _ With an army that big, surely nobody would be stupid enough to attack him _ . Daeron was left puzzled.

“You wouldn’t believe me.” Daeron rolled his eyes,  _ just tell me for fuck’s sake. _ “We were attacked in the  _ dead _ of night. We never heard  _ them _ coming.” He told Daeron, his gaze not on him anymore, but on the wall behind him; most likely remembering whatever he was telling him. That is if he was attacked.

“Who attacked you Mance?” Daeron asked him, frustration seeping into his voice. He wouldn’t believe the massive army he had could be wiped out that quickly.

“It all happened so fast, and by the time we all awoke…  _ they _ had slaughtered almost half of my army.” He said, his whole figure starting to slightly shake, almost as if he was scared.

“The men… the women… even the children lay dead where they slept. Some of their bodies-” He croaked and stopped talking, shaking his head, and again faced the wall behind him. “The giants and mammoths never stood a chance against them, even with their size. It was as I said, they were too fast for us.”

“Who?” He questioned again more harshly than he intended.  _ Is he  _ that _ afraid to tell me? _

“The dead.” Mance shrunk down till he was in a sitting position; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know it sounds stupid and silly. But you must believe me, for what I say is true.”

Daeron himself, took a deep breath, for what he was saying was not something he expected to hear at all.  _ It can’t be. The dead have been gone for thousands of years. They are just mere stories, old tales. _

“Is anybody still alive?” He asked Mance, playing along with what the man was saying, and took a few steps towards him but still kept his distance.

“What was left, after the ambush, all scattered into the woods… but if they’re still alive…” he shrugged his shaking shoulders and started scratching at the floor, a forced habit it seemed. “They're most likely dead.”

When Daeron kept his mouth shut, still not believing a word of what Mance was saying, the man looked up and scoffed lightly, “You still don’t believe me.” He grumbled angrily. “Why would you… I thought  _ you were different _ from the rest of them, but no, you’re just like everybody else, south of the Wall.”

_ Am I truly like everybody else? _ Daeron didn’t think so, but with what Mance was saying, he couldn’t believe what he was saying was true. Daeron wanted to laugh, but found he couldn’t.

“When  _ they _ find a way to get past the Wall, and they will, you will regret not heeding what I said.”

Daeron held his breath at that last statement, it was but a whisper, yet he heard clearly enough. Thinking back to those nightmares he would have, Daeron remembered seeing something that had always haunted him, something that might correlate to what Mance had said, ‘the dead.’ In those dreams, he would get a glimpse of a person. But, it wasn’t a person. It was  _ alive _ , yet dead and inhuman and dangerous to look at in his dreams. Daeron recalled its flesh looking pale like milk, its eyes blue like bright blue stars, and bones shiny like milkglass.

The nightmares haunted Daeron from time to time; waking him up suddenly, his body shaking and tense, agitated from what he saw in those nightmares. Daeron would either wake up cold, to the point he covered himself in layers to warm him up, or would wake up hot where he would remove whatever he wore to bed, also removing the sheets just to cool his body temperature down. Sometimes doing  _ those _ things wouldn’t be enough for the Prince. The nightmares only got worse as he aged.

The Prince decided to change direction, so he did. “If you have no other words, then let me be the one to tell you that you’re goin’ to die today, Mance Rayder. And  _ I _ will be the one to deliver it.” He said lastly, now wanting the conversation to end. He was positive, he wouldn’t get anything else from this man. His right hand was closed tightly, almost as if he was going to punch this man or something.

“I would expect none else but you, Daeron Targaryen.” Mance paused, took a deep breath and continued. “I hope it’s a quick death. Like the old ways.”

All Daeron did was nod his head, confirming for him what the Prince planned to do to him. He wouldn’t burn the false king, like what everybody wanted; they wanted to see the man suffer for all he’d done. No, Daeron would give him a proper death, by his own hands, the way his uncle taught him. ‘ If you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.’ It seemed this day, Daeron would be tested when that time comes, which would be soon.

This would be his first execution, and Daeron would be lying if he told someone he wasn’t nervous. Just thinking about what he would do to this man, had his whole body shaking with nervousness. His father had done executions, but he never carried out the task; he always had someone for that. ‘A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.’ Daeron also remembered his uncle telling him. Daeron would never hide behind others to do what he could do, he would feel shame if he allowed something like that.

He was unsure on how to proceed forward with what Mance had told him, but a small part of Daeron believed him. Nobody down south would believe it of course, they would instead mock him and see it as a joke; maybe  _ they _ would even make jokes towards Daeron for believing Mance on what they would say is an obvious lie. Sometimes the court annoyed the fuck out of Daeron.

A few moments later, Daeron was still staring at the shaking form of Mance Rayder, before the man spoke. “Are you not goin’ to ask about  _ her _ ?”

Daeron looked at Mance in confusion, wondering who he was talking about - he knew who  _ she  _ was though.

Mance scoffed heatedly, “Foolish boy. Val isn’t dead. You need not worry about her though. I knew how close the two of you were all those years ago.” Mance said with a slight chuckle and he smiled sorrowfully.

“I also know it was her who helped you escape.” Daeron was still holding his breath, and kept quiet, hoping the mask he set on his face hid his emotions, but he was sure Mance could read his facial expression. “It wasn’t hard to find out who let you loose. The others were clueless, but I knew… I’ve seen her enter your tent on those long nights.” Daeron tensed, and his whole face turned slightly red; he scolded himself for letting it show. Yes, he remembered all those nights with Val, remembered the way she felt in his arms, and-

_ No, I can’t think of that _ . He shook his head and started pacing in the cell, hoping to cool off the heat seeping out of him.

“You can imagine how broken she was when you just left her.” Mance spoke quietly, and Daeron stopped his movements. “She knew the memories that were once lost to you, forgotten in that mind of yours, were coming back to you; so she made a decision to let you go. She hated keeping you away from your family. Saying it was wrong to do so.” Mance took a deep breath and continued. “She helped you escape, and you left without thinking twice about it. Tell me, did she tell you to wait for her?” He asked Daron.

_ She did, but I could only wait for so long. _ He thought sadly.  _ I should’ve stayed longer. _

“We caught her before she could leave however.” Daeron’s head quickly turned towards Mance, his anger clearly showing now. Mance spoke with a calm voice, “But Val was able to escape, and when she did, she immediately went the direction you went.”

_ I never saw her. If only I…  _ Daeron shook his head angrily.  _ If only that red-haired bitch hadn’t found me, hadn’t shot me full of arrows, then we could’ve… _ he couldn’t finish that thought.

“We found her, took her back in. It was then that Val truly became one of us.”  _ I can’t think about this anymore. _

“How were you captured?” Daeron questioned him, wanting to know more about what transpired before this conversation. Wanting to think about something else.

Mance chuckled humorously, and glanced into Daeron’s gray eyes, “They didn’t capture me.” His voice turned into a more serious tone, but his shrewd brown eyes were consumed with sadness. “I turned myself in. There was no reason to live after wha-” he stopped talking and it seemed to Daeron, he wasn’t going to finish what he was going to say. He didn’t need to, for he could see it in Mance’s eyes, that were now beginning to fill with unshed tears.  _ Oh… _ Mance had turned away from Daeron before he could see the tears fall.  _ He had found someone _ .

_He lost someone,_ _how unfortunate for him._ The man before him had murmured something that the Prince didn’t hear, but Daeron need not ask because Mance spoke again, in a much louder and firm voice. “Her name was Dalla, Val’s sister, and she was the greatest person I’ve ever known. She died while giving birth to a boy… the babe didn’t survive though.” It was then that Daeron Targaryen somewhat believed what Mance Rayder had said. Though, it was still hard to believe the dead were the ones to defeat his army.

He really wasn’t expecting the conversation to go the way it did now. Daeron wanted answers - or rather the King and his advisors did - but instead, he had more questions that he was sure won’t be answered for quite awhile. One of those questions was:  _ would my father believe anything that Mance has said _ ? Daeron didn’t think so.

The meeting was over the moment Mance stopped speaking for quite some time, Daeron just stood there and stared at the man who brought him in, to be with his people, to become one of them. He should’ve hated the man, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He was trying to do right for his people, to give them a better life, especially for the children.

Without another word spoken from either, Daeron turned to the door, and knocked on it, indicating to the guard he was done with the conversation. With one more glance at Mance, who’s only attention was the wall, Daeron left him and headed towards the gates of Castle Black and called for Vermithor through their bond.

The dragon roared loudly for all to hear, and as Daeron made his way across the courtyard, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention upwards. Some flinched at the reverberating, but soothing melody of Vermithor’s cry, others stared with searching eyes towards the night sky. They were looking where the noise came from, hoping to get a glimpse of his dragon. But those eyes turned wide with fear when they noticed the great beast diving down, fast towards them - they scattered away like rats.

Daeron smiled inwardly.  _ You always love doing that, don’t you? _ Vermithor swiftly stopped his dive, quickly spreading its wings and changed its direction. Flying towards when it would meet up with Daeron.

As Daeron closely approached his dragon, he tried very hard not to laugh at what Vermithor was doing. With its eyes closed, Vermithor stuck its snout into the snow, shaking its whole form until Vermithor raised its head from the ground with snow covering its whole snout. It slowly raised its head, and was opening its jaw, before Vermithor opened its eyes and took notice of Daeron staring at him intently. In a second, Vermithor shook its head, trying to remove the snow from its snout, which only made it sneeze removing all the snow. Another sneeze was let loose from the dragon.

Daeron couldn’t hold it in any longer, so he didn’t. He laughed, for a good few moments. All Vermithor did was look away, growling low and deep, a puff of black smoke releasing from its mouth. Its molten eyes stared at a still laughing Daeron before the Prince lost his balance and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t taken hold of a tree branch.

He stared into the eyes of his dragon before Daeron spoke, “We will not speak of this to anyone.” The dragon only blinked at him, but there was understanding in its gaze. They were in agreement.

Daeron continued his walk to his dragon, while Vermithor got into position for its rider to climb on, without difficulty. Before Vermithor could ascend into the air, Daeron uttered, “Only few could make me laugh like that.” He patted the dragon which caused it to purr at him, before getting into position and urging the dragon to fly.

_ Hopefully, this won’t take long _ .

* * *

And it didn’t take long.

As they were flying, something had caught Daeron’s eyes that had him make his way towards it. As they had gotten closer, whatever Daeron saw, became clearer to his gray eyes: it looked to be some sort of spiral shape. Once they reached the clearing, the scene before him almost had the Prince throw-up whatever contents he had in his stomach. Yes, it was indeed a spiral shape, but what made up that spiral was piles of dead body parts.

Daeron became disturbed by this when he took notice of a child in the middle of the spiral, and also heads (severed from the body) that Daeron himself had recognized in his time with the freefolk; the Prince was sure he also felt Vermithor become unsettled with the scene.  _ Who could do something like this _ ? Daeron couldn’t answer it even though he somewhat knew the answer.  _ This is the work of a madman _ . In his time with the freefolk, Daeron knew this was something  _ they _ could not do.

This took time and effort to form.  _ This is precise _ . This was meant to send a message.

_ But to whom though…? _

Before Daeron could further add to his own question, both man and beast had enough of looking at the explicit scene before them, so Daeron didn’t want to stay any longer here - and Vermithor was in agreement. So, he commanded the dragon to fly up and away, fast.

_ It can’t be true, what Mance said.  _ They  _ can’t be back. The Others are nothing but a myth _ . Daeron wished he believed it was a myth.

_ I need to speak to Mance at once _ .

* * *

Daeron couldn’t be happier to see the gates of Castle Black.

He had quickly made his way from where he dismounted to where he needed to be; leaving Vermithor who looked to be happy to just see the snow. The moment Daeron was out of sight, the dragon stuck its snout back into the snow to continue where he got interrupted on before. The great beast seemed to have forgotten what had concurred just mere moments before.  _ What’s with the snow, Vermithor? _ He didn’t have time to dwell on it.

He needed to speak to Mance about what he saw. To ask him, if he had seen the same as Daeron. To ask if he knew the meaning of that horrific scene that kept repeating in his head. Daeron was sure what he saw would add to the already nightmares he gets. He needed to ask if there were other symbols like the one he saw.

But as the gates opened for him to enter through, he was surprised to see Mance kneeling on the ground, in the middle of the courtyard, with the whole of the watchmen present to watch the false king be executed.

The Lord Commander was standing next to Mance Rayder. His cold and stern gaze now set on Daeron. Stannis’ thin lips formed into a small smirk. It made Daeron’s temper rise, but he held it down, just until he truly needed to let it loose. Although the Prince was more than positive, there was still enough time for him to ask Mance some more questions he had. He could still see the last of light from the sun.

The Prince took long strides till he was face to face with Stannis Baratheon. He never liked the man, even when he first met him all those years ago; he also didn’t trust him. It was the same, vice-versa; the brother of Robert Baratheon held resentment against Rhaegar Targaryen, for his death at the Battle of the Trident which ended the war soon afterwards. Stannis didn’t want to bend the knee to Rhaegar, so it was decided that Stannis Baratheon would be removed of his titles - making Renly Baratheon the heir to Storm’s End - and take the black. Which in turn, made him the next Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.

He was of course good for the position, but Daeron would never tell him or anyone, for that matter. But whatever resentment Stannis held for the King passed on to the rest of his family, especially Daeron who was the spitting image of Rhaegar.

Staring deep into dark blue eyes, Daeron showed he wouldn’t cower under his gaze.  _ What’s a stag, to a dragonwolf? We prey on them _ .

“What do you think you’re doin’ Lord Commander?” He asked with slight irritation. “I was sure there was still time,  _ before the day’s end _ , to ask the prisoner some more questions I had for him.”

“ _ I  _ decided to push for an earlier execution.  _ This _ false king doesn’t deserve to live any longer than he should.” Stannis said with such hatred in his voice. “You’ve asked your questions, I’m sure he answered them; now it’s time to do your duty.” He paused before continuing, “If you can’t do what is necessary, then I will happily take your place. I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind an earlier execution?

_ Like hells you will _ , Daeron thought quickly, knowing if Stannis took over for him, word would most likely pass on to his father and make him even more disappointed in Daeron. He couldn’t have that.

So, turning his own cold and stern gaze to the Lord Commander, he replied for only him to hear, “ _ I  _ will be the one to execute him. No one else.” And with that, Daeron took his position next to Mance Rayder.

Stannis nodded his head glumly before walking away, and towards where he would watch the scene; up on the balcony that gave him the view of the courtyard.

As Stannis was walking away, Daeron quietly asked Mance about what he had seen north of the Wall. “I’ve seen those disturbing grave markings,” the Prince breathed deeply before asking, “Have you seen them before? Are there more of them?”

All Mance responded with was, “Always the artists.” It made Daeron more confused than ever.

“If what you say is true, how do we prepare for them, how can we defeat them?”

Mance looked up to Daeron’s gray eyes and answered him, “Only  _ you _ can, Daeron Targaryen… only  _ you _ .”

_ How!? _ He wanted to say, but it seemed he lost his voice.

“Beware the  _ winter _ storms, and the  _ darkness _ that follows  _ it _ . Nothing will stand in their way… in  _ his  _ way; only fire, its blaze hot like the sun, can clash against it.  _ A song of ice and fire _ .” The words turned into mumbles right afterwards. He hung his head, knowing his time had come.

So, without further delay, Daeron unsheathed his Valyrian sword, Blackfyre, from its scabbard. The sound, when released, was always sweet to the Prince’s ears. The red ruby that was at the end of the handle, looked to be pulsing, almost as if it was calling for blood.

It was about to get some.

Daeron set the sword with the blade first, his hands gripping the ruby tightly, down next to the form of Mance Rayder before he spoke to him, “If you have any last words  _ your grace _ , now’s the time.” He hoped everyone didn’t hear the quiver in his voice.

The mumbling stopped, and the next words that came from Mance were clear to no one but Daeron, “We’ll see each other soon, Dalla, and my sweet boy.”

Daeron could sense Mance smiling, accepting his ending. The Prince raised and swung Blackfyre with vigor, smoothly decapitating the head from its body, like it was butter.

A flock of ravens came flying and cawing out from a tree, as they fled south.

Blood squirted out from where it was sliced, and onto the snow; Daeron moved his feet away before it could make contact with his boots. For some reason, he looked up to where Stannis was at, and saw the Lord Commander nod at him before speaking to his men.

“Time for you dimwits to head back to your chambers. Not you two. I want you both to burn the body.” Stannis pointed to two watchmen: one fat and the other looked to be a child. Daeron didn’t care about them though, and as the words left the Lord Commander’s mouth, the men dispersed, leaving Daeron alone alongside the two in the courtyard; they were gone in a flash, struggling to carry the lifeless body and the missing head of Mance Rayder. Lastly, was Stannis, who was left staring at him with his cold eyes before he headed off to his own chambers.

Daeron Targaryen was trembling, once everyone was gone - he needed to leave this place. His mind was everywhere, and everything was hitting him at once.  _ That _ symbol, his father distancing himself from his son, worrying over the safety of his daughter, his family, seeing those icy blue eyes constantly in his head, and everything else was piling on Daeron’s shoulders.

_ I just beheaded a man _ , he felt sick to his stomach. 

The trembling worsened, and it was not from the cold. And it was as if it felt his distress, for all of a sudden, a great deafening roar was heard for all to hear. It was a thunderous roar, its sound shaking the grounds of Castle Black, and it seemed like the Wall shook with its cry.

Out of nowhere, Vermithor landed at the front of the gates, with authority and scaring the guards on duty. No matter, for they were enemies to the dragon’s eyes. It sensed and could feel its master’s agony, which made it go on the attack. The dragon growled menacingly, baring its sharp teeth; its jaw opening, revealing it was ready to burn everything in its path. Vermithor definitely would demolish and obliterate all beings of life, there at Castle Black and the Wall itself.

So, Daeron calmed his mind as best he could and spoke to Vermithor through their bond.  _ I’m okay… they didn’t hurt me… I’m okay… don’t hurt them, please… I’m okay. _ Daeron kept repeating and repeating to the dragon, hoping and praying it didn’t do what it wanted to do. Daeron would never forgive himself.

It worked, and the dragon closed its jaw, making the guards sigh in relief, but not before snapping its teeth at them and making them flinch away, their heads hitting the brick wall.  _ I’m okay _ , were the only words he kept saying to the dragon, and to himself. Yet, he was anything but okay. And as Vermithor lowered himself to let Daeron mount it, with Blackfyre still being carried in his hand - blood dripping from the sword and onto the snow. Daeron Targaryen finally realized his eyes were welling up with tears.

As quick as a cat, they took into the sky, the cold winds blowing rapidly into Daeron’s face with how fast the dragon was going.

_ Take us home _ . Daeron never looked back. He hoped he never had to come back to this place anymore.

Little did the Prince know: a pair of pale grey eyes, filled with deep sadness in them, were staring at him as he fled south.

* * *

As Daeron dismounted from Vermithor, he saw the other piece of him, full sprinting towards his direction. He quickly wiped whatever tears that were on his face, and patted the dragon, who purred at his touch trying to seek more of it.

“My Prince?” Was what he heard before he turned and saw Ser Jaime Lannister; the man did say he would be there on his return back. Daeron scowled at him, which caused Jaime to smirk, he continued again. “Travel well?”

He ignored the question, “I’ve told you lots of times; I don’t want you bein’ formal with me,  _ Ser _ .” Daeron handed the Valyrian sword to the Lannister, the blood now dried up.

Jaime looked at the sword and spoke to Daeron, “How did it g-,” he never finished because Daeron held up his hand.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaime. Let’s leave it at that.”  _ Please… _

“Of course, Daeron.” Jaime responded back.

As Daeron made his way to the two horses that were most likely there for him, Jaime stood back and stared at the sword, questioning himself how his Prince would be, mentally. Taking a man’s life, unarmed is different than that of killing someone armed. He looked to Vermithor, and caught the dragon staring at him, causing Jaime to squirm under their gaze. He made his way back to the two horses, seeing Daeron mount a black steed and riding off towards the Red Keep. As he settled himself on his own horse, with Blackfyre secured, Jaime Lannister truly hoped his friend would be well.

* * *

Daeron was scurrying along to his destination, he dismissed Jaime to clean his sword, and also told him he would be visiting his sister. His steps, silent like his wolf. Remembering the big fur beast, made Daeron smile; he missed his good and loyal friends, no matter what, Ghost always found his way by Daeron’s side. No matter where the Prince went, the wolf would be there; except for times when he couldn’t bring his closest companion with him to certain places, like the Wall, or if he was riding on his dragon. Ghost’s presence was always a welcome one to Daeron, just like Vermithor, and just like his counterpart, Ghost would seek out his master’s attention in any way he could.

But Ghost wasn’t there, in the Red Keep, for he was keeping guard over his wife, Arianne and his daughter, Eleana , who were at the moment travelling from Summerhall to King’s Landing; Elaena had told her father she slept better whenever Ghost slept next to her. She loved how soft he feels when she sleeps on him. He couldn’t wait to see his family again, to see his daughter. He missed them, especially his daughter, who was sad when he told them he needed to take a trip up north. He hoped she would forgive him with the gift he had gotten for her.

As the Prince made his way to where he was headed, those sickening images of dead bodies forming some sort of symbol, kept repeating in his mind. He also kept repeating what Mance had said, ‘always the artists.’

_ Had Mance seen those symbols before? _ Tons of questions the Prince had, but no answers for them.

Daeron shook his head, as he found where he needed to be. The knight who was guarding the chamber doors, stood at attention when he saw the Prince in his vision. The Kingsguard had a grim look on his face; the three-headed dragon embedded on his breastplate and a black bat, with its wings spread out like it was flying was emblazoned on his helmet, confirming for Daeron, who it was quickly and also, that he was in the right place. Ser Oswell Whent, the Kingsguard, had been a sworn-shield to Princess Rhaenys Targaryen since she was a little girl, and was also a great mentor to Prince Daeron.

Daeron looked to Ser Oswell and smiled a generous smile towards him, but all Oswell did was roll his eyes, that grim look still glued to his face.  _ Ok, then. _

“Is my sister sleeping?” He spoke in a low voice, unsure if Rhaenys was actually indeed asleep at this time of hour. It was late, but Daeron hoped she would be awake.

Oswell just squinted his eyes at the Prince, “What do you think?”

Daeron scolded himself; yes, he should’ve known Rhaenys wouldn't be sleeping. Even before he had left, his older sister refused to sleep, worried for her little brother at the chance of him getting hurt, or worse killed. He was heading towards the Wall, why wouldn’t she be worried for him. A few years back, Rhaenys had told him she felt better and slept safer in her younger brother’s arms. He hoped they both felt better and slept safer before the night’s end.

Ser Oswell knocked on his older sister’s door, making Daeron hold his breath. The door opened just slightly, only for Rhaenys to peek her head out, locks of her long brown hair were loose around her shoulders; her eyes went wide as she caught sight of her brother. She immediately opened the door wider for him to enter, which he did. He entered the chamber room.

Before he could do anything, Daeron was pulled into a tight hug, and he immediately matched her by hugging her just as tightly. All was forgotten in Rhaenys’ arms.

“Brother,” she whispered, releasing her tight hold on Daeron, but still holding on to him. He did the same, but he had brushed the sides of her breasts making her shiver in desire. Rhaenys was dressed in a golden-colored thin satin robe, that covered her whole body, yet showed her bare feet and also showed a generous amount of cleavage to his eyes. Daeron remembered how his cock felt to be wrapped by them. He shifted on his feet.

Candles were lit in the room, the balcony doors were open, giving the room a nice cool breeze. The room was dark, but there was enough light for Daeron to see what was in front of him. The robe his sister was wearing, fit snugly on her and showed every curve of his sister’s figure: firm legs and thick thighs with wide hips, and a round arse that he loved to grab; a thin waist and a toned abdomen which lead to her full breasts that had Daeron lick his lips when he noticed her nipples pressing right through the soft satin robe. They always looked bigger whenever she wore her sleepwear before she went to bed - they were straining against the material, looking ready to be set free.

Raising his eyes higher, from her chest and watching her take deep breaths, to her slim neck, then her face. Her full lips, in which she was biting the bottom one in a sultry way, then to her small nose, and finally her eyes. They were opened wide, and Daeron could see the desire, lust, and hunger in them.

The Prince gulped, his cock twitching at seeing the beauty that is his sister; he was sure the woman was bare underneath, juices flowing from her shaved cunt. Rhaenys always enjoyed seeing her brother eyeing her body; she enjoyed eyeing him also, but secretly. 

“Daeron?” Rhaenys spoke softly, her voice sounded concerning. She knew something was the matter with her brother. Rhaenys knew him better than anybody most. They both stared into each other’s eye for several moments, gray staring deep into dark brown, before Daeron started to tremble.

His hands were shaking as he remembered swinging Blackfyre. That symbol… everything…  _ I need to forget _ .

“Is everything alright, brother?” His sister’s sweet, but nervous voice pulled him away from wherever he was, and he blinked at her; Rhaenys grabbed hold of his face in her hands, they felt soft and smooth that he couldn’t help but close his eyes in relaxation, and lean into her left hand. Warmth and desire coursed throughout his whole body just from her touch; his cock began to harden. Her hands began to caress his cheeks and Daeron could fall asleep just by her sweet and soft touches, or her gentle voice. But, he wanted to forget about the world and only focus on them both only.

He was shaking his head, his hands trailed down her arms, when he responded, “Don’t worry about that now. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” And with that, Daeron gently removed his sister’s hands from his face and pulled her face onto his; her soft and full lips mashing onto his.

Rhaenys whimpered softly, from deep in her throat, which turned into a moan once Daeron slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her nipples stood harder in attention. Their tongues were now battling with one another making Daeron seek more of her. His sister slipped her hand downward and started her journey with undoing whatever clothing was on her brother. Once his undershirt was gone from him, she fondled his very firm abs that had her purring from her touching. She caressed the scars that adorned his beautiful body, like she always did, to bring comfort to Daeron.

Again, Rhaenys trailed her hand down his toned abs, and her fingers stopped once she noticed he still had his trousers still on; she growled annoyingly and set her task with removing it all. Her brother chuckled which had them taking a breath from their deep kissing.

Rhaenys rolled her eyes, “You wear too much clothing, little brother.” Daeron chuckled again, his pearly white teeth showing, which in turn made his older sister smile - she accomplished something huge right there with that rare smile of his.

“I am very sorry, sweet sister of mine.” But Daeron was anything but sorry. He focused his attention to the woman in front of him, “Where’s your husband, sister?”

Once his clothes were gone, Rhaenys wrapped her small hand around Daeron’s now hardened member and she spoke in an irritating voice at him asking that question, in this moment. “Where do you think, brother?” Her and her husband hardly spend any time together, let alone spend time in the bed. She gave him a full stroke. Her fingers making half-circles around the base of his shaft.

Daeron moaned from her soft and gentle touch which sent shivers down his spine. So,  _ with Loras Tyrell then, _ he thought with a thrill.

“Mmm, you enjoy my hand wrapped around your cock, don’t you brother?” She whispered seductively in his ear, now very slowly stroking his cock.

“I do,” Daeron whimpered, nodding his head quickly. He was caressing her sides lovingly.

“We’re going to have so much fun before the sun rises,” Rhaenys said, then bit her lip wantonly.

Licking his own lips, Daeron responded back, “Yes, we most definitely are.” He groaned, grinding his teeth together and brought her back in for another deep kiss.

His sister giggled before returning the kiss; her wrist turned side to side, and she loosened her fist, yet still continued to stroke his fat, thick tool.

Upon realizing his sister was still wearing her robe, he quickly undid it, revealing light-olive skin and the sides of her fleshy globes, to his hungry eyes before he was brought back into the kiss. Rhaenys squeezed around the base of his cock, making the bulbous head flare.

Letting go of her brother’s cock, made her whimper in sadness, but it was needed for Daeron to remove the robe from his older sister’s body. Rhaenys brought her hand up to her mouth and spit into it, then returned it to his rigid member. She smeared her spit onto his flesh as she stroked him firmer than before.

“You like that, don’t you?” His sister said wickedly, her lips pulled back, like she was snarling, and revealing her perfect teeth.

Daeron growled like his wolf, or dragon, and kissed her hard: lips, teeth, and tongue more involved. He began walking them both towards her bed. Her hand gripped him even harder, stroking more firmly for a few strokes, and then disappearing. Rhaenys spit again into her hand, before cupping her palm over his cockhead; she made small circles with her hand, squeezing firmly and then again, loosening.

Daeron tried desperately to keep up with his sister, but what she did with her movements on his bulbous head got to him. That was always her move to get him to spill his seed and it seemed his sister wanted that to happen.

He grips her arse when his cock oozes precum and Rhaenys uses it, smearing it on her fingers as she squeezes and then releases him, over and over again. Her motions grew fast, then she slowed down. The ends of her fingers danced against the head of his cock.

He let out a heavy breath, “You know me so well.”

“Of course I do,” Rhaenys brought her lips near his ear and whispered, “I  _ was _ your first Daeron. I know you better than others, maybe not better than your mother but, I do know you well. I know the right spots that get to you.” She bit his earlobe, then licked the shell of his ear. Her pussy was leaking her sweet fluids down her thighs; her toes curled and she brought one of her legs to wrap around her brother’s waist, rubbing her foot on his calf, and grinding her needy cunt on him.

She released his shaft and moved down to his swollen balls; she squeezed and caressed them gently. Daeron placed his lips on her neck, and began biting and licking it to muffle his moan. He was sure if his sister continued to stroke and tease him, he would’ve found his release much sooner.

Rhaenys’ lips parted and she tilted her head to the other side to give her brother more to bite and lick; her fingers caressed his sack, then stretched back straight and lightly teased the head of his shaft. “I love it when you mark me, ohhh.” Her lips softly grazed his flushed cheek as she gasped when he bit her too roughly, but he then licked it to soothe her pain. It will definitely leave a mark. Her hand made its way back to his sack and she rubbed and tugged on his swollen balls.

“I love leaving marks on those I care most for,” Daeron mumbled into her neck as he switched positions, now Daeron was laying back on the sheets with his sister laying half of her body on his; her leg over his, and still grinding her cunt on his muscled thigh as he still devoured her.

Rhaenys blushed deeply and coyly shied away into her younger brother’s shoulder, he always knew the right words to say to her despite him saying he isn’t good with words; there were only a few people she knew he left his mark on. And there a few she was glad he didn’t leave a mark on. She wrapped her hand around his cock again.

They both heard talking outside the door; the voices of Ser Oswell and Ser Jaime both conversing with one another before it went quiet. It seemed Jaime finished cleaning his sword and resumed his duty with guarding the Prince. No matter, Daeron and Rhaenys would’ve continued with what they were doing in the chamber room even if they conversed with one another.

Both siblings stared at each other before Rhaenys leaned down and kissed his lips again. Her hand stroked his cock faster as their needs grew bigger.

Tongues massaged one another and they could taste the other in their own mouths. Daeron gripped his sister’s side and pulled her tighter against him, still kissing hungrily, saliva now smearing on their lips.

Rhaenys had pulled away again, gasping for air and looked down at her brother’s lust-filled eyes with hooded eyes and smiled lustfully. Daeron grinned back, knowing what his sister was about to do.

Rhaenys shuffled down the bed, on her knees right at his hips. She bent over and her mouth immediately found his fat cock. Her long dark brown hair cascaded down, covering her gorgeous face as Daeron felt her soft, hot, and wet mouth surround the head of his shaft. Daeron closed his eyes and let out a soft groan as his sister’s tongue slivered around his hot flesh. Rhaenys moaned right back at the taste of her little brother’s precum on her tongue.

Daeron extended his arm out and placed his hand at her pussy, needing to feel her hot flesh against his; Rhaenys spread her thighs apart as his hand was making contact with her skin. He was greeted with hot and smooth shaved pussy folds.

Rhaenys whimpered onto his cock as her tongue massaged him. Her brother’s finger went straight into her cunt, not wasting any time; she pushed back on his hand as her head bobbed on the top half of his thick cock. He quickly inserted another finger in Rhaenys’ tight pussy, her walls tightening at the intrusion; her loud moan was muffled by the cock that was slowly going deeper into her mouth.

She worked her mouth back and forth, trying really hard to concentrate on working her brother as his fingers probed deeper inside of her. She tucked her brown locks behind her ear, so that he could see her mouth swallowing him. Daeron Targaryen never saw a sight more erotic than in that moment right then and there.

Rhaenys’ toes curled as her brother smeared his fingers on her soft and slick walls. He pumped his fingers inside of her and Rhaenys pushed her mouth further down his shaft, forcing it into her tight throat.

Daeron let loose another groan, he wanted to scream out in euphoria, but he was sure everyone in the Red Keep would wake from his wail.  _ Too bad there isn’t a feast happening right this moment _ . Memories of that with his mother made his cock twitch. He watched with wide eyes as his sister’s mouth got closer and closer to the base of his cock. She was teasing him, taking another inch and then coming back up, and then back down and taking another inch.

Her honey nectar was leaking out of her and down his hand which made his fingers slicker to penetrate her pussy. Remembering his sister had a looking glass in her room, he looked over to where it was and smiled but it then turned into a moan louder than before. His sister’s round arse was high in the air and he saw his fingers deep inside of her; she kept pushing back as Daeron pushed forward.

Rhaenys pulled her mouth up and off his member, sucking as hard as she could on the way up. She spit on his very wet shaft, and stroked him hard and fast when she spoke, “Did you get bigger since the last time I had you?”

“No,” he responded back, whining that her mouth wasn’t swallowing him whole. Though, it had been a moon past since he had bedded his sister. It had also been a fortnight since he bedded his wife, Arianne. If he timed it right, she would be at the capital the next day after tomorrow. He was excited to see both his wife and his daughter,  _ it’s been too long _ .

Rhaenys knew what her brother was thinking about, so she shoved her face against his pelvis, swallowing him whole. Daeron watched as his cock quickly disappeared completely behind his sister’s lips, and into the tight sleeve of her throat. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, as she kept his cock deep in her throat.

“Ohh fuck,” Daeron moaned.

Rhaenys rocked against his hand, fucking her cunt with his fingers embedded deep inside her, and fucking his cock with her throat. Now, she moaned deeply with her full lips wrapped tightly around his member, sending pleasant vibrations throughout her brother’s body.

Daeron held her head with his free hand, but not pushing, just letting his big sister set the pace. He felt her throat clench his shaft as she sucked, making him throb in her mouth.

Very slowly, she pulled back up, gagging and spitting lewdly before she released him from her mouth. Her spit, his precum, and whatever else was practically drenched on his very hardened and throbbing cock. Rhaenys looked over at him and smiled wickedly as thick strings of her spittle connected her mouth with his cock.

“Keep doing that sweet sister, and I won’t last much longer. It’s been some time since I last came.” Daeron said while taking deep breaths, hoping he could at least last a little longer.

Wiping the saliva off of her lips with her hand, Rhaenys then smeared it onto his shaft. “Don’t worry about that brother, we got all night. Besides, I do want you to come in my mouth because then you will last much longer once you’re deep inside my tight pussy. It misses your cock very much.” She grinned, a small drop of their mixed fluids was still hanging from her bottom lip. “Also, I love to taste you.”

With that said, she swallowed him whole again, straight down her throat. Daeron withdrew his fingers from her cunt and brought them to his mouth and sucked her honey juices from his fingers. Keeping his other hand on her head, he began thrusting up into her face, causing her to gag; he was now nearing his own release.

Rhaenys feasted on his cock, sloppily sucking him as deep as she could, and trying her best not to gag as her brother was closer to pouring his seed down her throat. Remembering all those times he did shoot his seed in her mouth had her mouth working up and down, all the way up to the tip and would lick around the head with her tongue, before diving back down.

Daeron watched spellbound, seeing his long and fat member gleaming with saliva, and it would thicken between his sister’s soft lips. His balls constricted into his body and warmth spread throughout his whole figure. His hips bucked up into Rhaenys’ face, fucking her and making her spittle pour from the sides of her mouth. He howled, not caring anymore if anybody heard him, when ribbons of his seed emptied, and coated the insides of his sister’s hungry mouth.

Rhaenys moaned deeply as her mouth was filled with his spunk. She always loved the taste of Daeron’s seed since the first time she blew her baby brother when they first laid together. It made her feel naughty, loving the taste of it and always wanting more of it.

She pulled her mouth off of his cock, being careful not to spill any of his precious seed. She swallowed all of it, treasuring the feeling of it as it flowed down her throat and into her stomach. Rhaenys crawled up back to her brother and kissed his lips softly before she spoke, “Now, that’s a way to start the night. Right, baby brother?”

Daeron returned the kisses, tasting himself on her sweet lips. “Indeed, it is.” He grabbed her arms and pushed her down on the bed, “Now, it’s my turn to feast on you.”

He mounted her between her thighs on his knees. His hands slid up her smooth and firm legs, purring at how soft to the touch her skin felt. He finally reached her bosom, and he groped her luscious breasts, his hands squeezing his sister’s gorgeous teets. Daeron felt her erect nipples under his palms as he kneaded her generous bosom.

“These are just perfect,” he said as he stared where his hands were. He couldn’t stop the thought that had just crossed his mind then: a babe at her breast, a babe that his older sister has been wanting since seeing her younger siblings with their own. Both Daeron and Egg were now expecting another child, making Rhaenys more jealous than she usually is. But he wanted to change that, and in doing so, Daeron Targaryen would have to do what Rhaenys’ husband, Renly Baratheon, couldn’t do… and that is spilling his seed deep into his older sister’s womb.

He never did before, for he was worried their babe would come out looking more like him - the Stark features - and giving his father enough reason to banish him from Westeros. So, Daeron took precaution; whereas, Rhaenys wanted her brother’s seed spilling inside her, taking root and making her stomach go round with his child. She always got frustrated whenever he found his release somewhere on her body, instead of in her, besides her mouth. Not tonight however, tonight Daeron would do what his sister always wanted from him.

So, watching his sister with hunger eyes, seeing how she squirms under his gaze, he then closed his eyes and buried his face in her delectable breasts. Daeron kissed all over them, dragging his tongue around her dark-colored nipples then lightly nibbling on the hardening buds.

Rhaenys whimpered as her brother pinched and tugged on both of her delicate nipples; she loved how his face felt on her skin, his full beard making light scratches on her flesh. Again, she would have to trim it, since he won’t let no one else do so. She smiled and rocked her hips, her greedy pussy begging to be touched by his fingers again, or rather his amazing tongue.

_ I wish these were full of milk, like how Ari’s were and will be again, _ he thought sinfully as he devoured his sister’s full breasts. His hands roughly groped her, digging his fingers into the flesh. Daeron took one nipple into his mouth and sucked on it; his teeth bit her lightly, making Rhaenys cry out, but he soothed it with his tongue before doing it again. He mimicked the sensations on her other nipple with his fingers.

Rhaenys’ head dropped back and she moaned. She snuck her hand down towards her throbbing pussy, feeling the heat radiating from there. Her fingers dipped inside of her slit and caressed her inner walls, slickening her fingers with her juices. This night, she was wetter than ever before.

The Princess dragged her fingers up over her clit and rubbed her engorged nub in small circles, while her brother feasted on her breast. Her eyes fluttered close as her brother continued to pleasure her. Daeron switched to her other nipple.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moaned softly. “I don’t know how you do it, but I could just get off with you just sucking on my sensitive nipples.” Her free hand found its way onto Daeron’s curls, grabbing a hold of him and keeping him at her breast; cradling him like a babe. She hoped Daeron would spill inside her tonight.

Opening his eyes and catching the movement of her arm, that she was still rubbing her clit with, he removed his hand from her breast and crammed two of his fingers back into her tight channel. “I believe you will come even harder as I do this to you.”

Rhaenys arched her back, shaking her head into the soft pillows; her fingers worked her clit faster and harder, rubbing herself furiously in circles, back and forth, back and forth. Daeron’s cock had begun hardening back to its full length, as the room was filled with the sweet aroma of his older sister’s pussy.

Daeron fucked her cunt with his fingers, hard and fast in which he inserted a third thick finger. Rhaenys was growing hotter, her pussy walls tightening around her brother’s probing fingers, her legs shaking from the oncoming orgasm that would soon take over her body. She moaned deep as he sucked her nipple hard, and all she could do was thrash about.

He continued munching on her breasts, dragging his wet tongue over the mounds on her heaving chest. He bit her sensitive nipples and sucked hard on them; he pulled his head back slightly and continued on with the other mound.

“Oh gods, fuck yes. Daeron, fuck,” Rhaenys wheezed out.

Her walls were pulsing around his fingers, her legs trembling violently. Then, Daeron found that sweet spot that always did it for his sister; he pushed hard against it, caressed it as he continued his thrusting.

“You’re going to make me come little brother… going to make your big sister come all over your fingers.” Rhaenys groaned, wanting to scream loud, but she didn’t want those to hear how well her brother was bringing her great pleasure.

“Mmm, come for me, Rhae… come for your little brother. You know only I could do this to you,” Daeron growled at her.

Rhaenys’ toes curled tightly and her body began shaking. Her tits wobbled against her brother’s mouth and she covered her mouth with her hand and cried out in pleasure into her hand. Though, she was sure Ser Oswell and Ser Jaime heard her.

Daeron watched as his sister’s nostrils flared with her heavy breaths, her dark brown eyes glazing over before she closed them in sweet bliss. Her cute nose scrunched up as her body shivered delightfully; her honey juices started squirting out of her. Daeron pulled his fingers out and saw his groin and thighs flooded with her fluids.

“That’s my sweet girl,” Daeron whispered.

It took Rhaenys a moment to catch her breath, and she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her. All she responded with was, “Yep.” Still giggling in a cute manner.

Daeron smiled and admired her flushed red cheeks and took notice of her chest, drenched in her sweat and his spit. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and tasted her honey nectar; his sister tasted spicy, yet wonderfully delicious that overwhelmed all of his senses. Out of all the women he had been with, Rhaenys’ pussy was the best.

Rhae watched enticingly, as her brother sucked his fingers dry before diving down to her pussy and began lapping at her delicate folds. She was sure he wanted more of her fluids, straight from the source. Her body quivered gloriously.

Daeron kissed his way back up her stomach, when he was finished, and kissed over her breasts, taking his time till he got to her lips. He stroked his now hardened cock, as he made his way up, his member was now fully erect and hard, like Valyrian steel.

He kissed along her jaw, and Rhaenys sighed in contempt, and then he finally kissed her full lips. “Are you ready?” He questioned her.

“Yes,” Rhaenys replied, nodding her head enthusiastically, opening her legs wider, and feeling her brother’s cock tease her folds. “It’s been too long.”

“Indeed, it has been.” Daeron said.

His sister licked her lips and smiled, “Let’s do this brother.”

Daeron pressed the head of his cock against the entrance to her steamy cunt. His cock was aching once he felt her heat and slick juices coating his thick shaft. He pulled his mouth away from her sensuous lips, so he could stare deep into his sister’s dark brown colored eyes.

“Put it in me,” she whispered wantonly. Rhaenys pulled her legs back and spread herself more open.

Daeron watched her face as he slowly entered her, her eyes locked with his. Her mouth parted just slightly as he slid into her tight channel. She was tight, making him push harder to fit his fat meat inside her.

“How are you so tight?” He questioned with a groan.

“It has been awhile, Daeron. Just shove it in, and I’ll open up for you. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me, brother.” She replied as she moaned quietly.

With that, Daeron thrusted hard, ramming his whole cock deep inside of her pussy with the help of her flowing juices. Rhaenys whimpered, as her cunt walls forced open to accommodate his thick tool. As always, her brother filled her completely and oh so wondrously.

Her walls squeezed him and he grinded his cockhead against her womb. Rhaenys gripped the back of her thighs and spread herself even wider.

“Ohhh fuckkk. You feel so good in me,” she squealed as Daeron kept grinding. She could almost feel it in the pit of her stomach.

Daeron’s balls rubbed against her round arse cheeks as he held himself deep inside of his sister, being surrounded by her warmth. Rhae rocked her hips into his and moaned.

He pulled out almost entirely, only leaving the head, and slowly entered her again. He relished in the sweet sensations of his sister’s inner flesh pulling him in. He placed his hand on her calf and rubbed it softly.

She moaned and mumbled a response, but Daeron didn’t care as he continued his slow thrusting. He felt her fluids leaking out onto his balls. Rhae let go of her thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper inside of her with each thrust. Her hips lifted off the bed, meeting his pace.

They kept eye contact, not one breaking from each other; they could feel each other’s breath on their parted mouths. Rhaenys moaned deeply when he filled her completely, and whimpered when he withdrew.

Daeron steadied himself with one arm curled around her head and the other firmly groping her breast - her nipples grazing his chest.

“Fuck me, harder… please. Fuck me harder,” she begged.

Daeron began picking up his speed, working her up. Rhae used her legs around him as leverage to help drive his cock into her body. She squeezed her walls tighter around his shaft, causing her toes to curl.

“Give it to me, Daeron. Fuck your big sister,” Rhaenys pleaded with him.

And he obeyed her and started pounding into his sister. She let loose an uncontrollable moan of satisfaction; his sister moved her hands up to the headboard of the mattress and gripped it tight to keep herself from being pushed upward, with how hard and fast Daeron was thrusting. His breath was heavy against her face as his cock drove into her, tearing her open as she met each thrust.

“Fuck yes,” she screamed into his shoulder, then bit it hard. He filled her perfectly, _ like we were made for each other _ , she thought possessively.

Daeron turned his face away from her and looked towards the looking glass, and stared at the siblings coupling: watching himself fuck his sister hard. He turned her face with his hand and made her watch aslo.

“Ohhh yesss,” she hissed, “We’re doing what dragons should be doing. Mating with one another.” Rhaenys whimpered from a deep thrust. She saw her round breasts bouncing with each thrust against her brother, seeing the muscles in his back and his sculptured arse tensing and releasing as he ruts into her.

“Fuck,” Daeron groaned back. He fucked her with all his might and strength, putting more force behind his heavy thrusts. Her brother’s hips slamming into her, Rhaenys held tighter onto the headboard with her eyes glued to the mirror. She continued to watch herself taking the hardest fuck her brother has ever given to her. Their were many rough and hard fucking before this night. Daeron leaned down and kissed her jaw then her cheek, that was beginning to become drenched with her sweat. He licked the fluids in his mouth and swallowed.

She moaned and gasped, still staring at the image they were showing to only themselves; she was amazed with what she was seeing, and Rhaenys Targaryen never wanted this moment to end.

She heard his moans and heavy breathing directly in her ear. It sent tremors through her whole figure; her legs trembled, toes curling and uncurling themselves, and her body shook violently. The sweet sounds of their coupling, sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin, and the rich-pleasant aroma of their intimacy was thick in the air.

Daeron Targaryen felt himself nearing another orgasm, but he didn’t want to release just yet. The Prince quickly pulled out of the Princess’ cunt.

“I want you to ride me, Rhae.” He said as he collapsed on the sheets, gasping, “Sit on my lap and ride me like the dragon you are.”

His stiff and throbbing cock pointed straight up to the ceiling, which was coated in her honey nectar. Rhaenys quickly got up and climbed on top of her brother; she settled with her knees next to his waist and one of her hands still holding onto the headboard, the other was holding her brother’s cock. She looked down at her baby brother, strands of her hair sticking to her face, as she lowered herself down onto his stiff pole.

They both moaned in unison as they became connected again. Rhaenys filled herself completely and she on instinct, rocked her hips on his cock, holding it deep as she could inside her. Daeron was buried deep in his sister, the head of his cock touching the entrance of her womb; he groaned and reached up and grabbed hold of her perfectly large and round breasts that dangled in front of his face.

Rhaenys began bouncing on his cock lightly, enjoying the groans and other sounds coming from her brother,  _ my love _ , she thought. He watched his sister’s body riding his cock, the way she would ride on a horse, or her dragon. She looked fierce,  _ a goddess more like _ , as her round globes bounced in his hands as he thrust up and dug his fingers into her flesh.

Rhaenys rolled her hips hard into him, swallowing his shaft inside of her; his cock rubbed against her soft and slick walls. Daeron pinched her nipples, remembering their first time together, remembering the same way she rode him like all those years ago.

She squeezed him, “Oh, fuck yes… do that again.” And she did which made his head roll on the soft pillow. Rhaenys’ juices leaked out from her cunt, flowing down his balls, soaking his pubic hair and trickling onto the sheets beneath them.

He let loose groans as his sister rode him furiously for several moments before slowing, making him whimper. She smiled gleefully at him, catching her breath, then resuming her normal thrusts. Daeron met each thrust, pushing up into her as she came down onto him more stronger than before.

Daeron twisted her hardened nipples, causing Rhaenys to squeal with delight. She moaned from a vigorous thrust her brother did, but continued rocking their bodies together.

“You ride me so well, Rhae.” He moaned.

“Uhh… it… took… oh yes… some… practicing… uhh… of course,” she gasped her words between each thrust. She whimpered, grinding his cock against her womb.  _ Please, let him spill inside me. Let his seed take root and make me fat with  _ his _ child. _ Rhaenys thought longingly. She bounced breathlessly, her breasts jiggling in her brother’s calloused hands.

Rhaenys slowed down, squeezed his cock with her tight walls. She felt him throb, almost as if he was about to come; she settled on top of him, rocking her hips and grinding her cunt. She let go of the headboard and reached behind her, cradling and squeezing his swollen balls.

After some mere moments, she released his sack and leaned down to kiss his lips. Daeron wrapped one arm around her hips and pulled her down on him harder, his sister’s skin rippling from the effect. Rhaenys’ body responded back and gave her lover what he wanted.

“I don’t want to stop fucking you,” he moaned into her mouth, sucking her bottom lip then gently biting it.

“I don’t either,” Rhae moaned right back, now biting his bottom lip and tugging on it. She kissed along his jaw and up to his ear as she rode him with great vigor. She licked and nibbled his ear as she panted. Daeron responded back with smacking his sister’s round arse cheek. Rhaenys lifted her torso back up and slammed herself down onto her brother.

He stared up into the eyes of his sister, noticing the different look in them; he gently squeezed her arse almost possessively, relishing how soft and firm they felt. She resumed bouncing more urgently on him, her tits swaying wildly on her chest. Her slick cunt made squelching noises as she pistoned herself up and down her brother’s fat cock.

She nearly screamed as Daeron drilled into her harder and faster and dug his nails into her arse. Rhae pushed strands of her mane that was stuck to her skin, away from her face, and Daeron enjoyed the way his sister’s folds were spread wide open to accommodate his fat shaft, licking his lips at seeing her engorged clit poking out from her pussy.

Rhaenys’ body was still slamming into him more forcefully, her breasts bouncing directly in his face, making Daeron lick his lips before latching onto one nipple, devouring it her meaty flesh and tasting her salty-spiced perspiration.

They grinded their bodies together roughly, now pure animalistic lust had completely taken over them. Heavy grunts and moans going back and forth as their pubic mounds pounded into each other. Daeron’s pubic hairs were getting soaked in his older sister’s leaking nectar.

“Daeron… uhh… I want you… to… uhh, oh yes… come inside… ohh… me. I want your seed… I need it… uhh… now, please.” Rhaenys begged while trying to control her breathing and also keep up with the rutting.

Daeron groaned with his face now hidden between her light-olive bosom, that was drenched in copious amounts of her sheen sweat.

“Oh, Daeron… suck my nipples, please. I want to come on my little brother,” Rhae moaned loud.

Quickly, Daeron latched his mouth onto her left nipple, sucking it hungrily like a babe. His fingers pinched and tugged on the other.

This time, Rhaenys looked over and into the mirror, seeing herself riding her baby brother and how deliciously the scene looked to her eyes. Her thick mane danced against her back, and her arse jiggled as she slammed herself down onto his cock. She closed her eyes and bit down hard on her lip, almost making it bleed; she tried as much as she could to keep from screaming out loud as every inch in her was being turned over to the greatest pleasure once more. She shuddered, writhed, quivered, and quaked making the only thing she could focus on was the delirious sensation in her cunt as her body melted itself into a deep and overwhelming climax.

Her brother held her tight to him, fighting to keep himself buried inside of her as she squirted onto his cock, thighs, and the sheets. Her pussy walls pulsed around him and tightened, desperate to squeeze him out, but he still held on.  _ Please, please, please _ , Rhaenys pleaded and prayed in her mind.

Finally, Daeron found his own climax, shooting ropes and ropes of his seed inside of his big sister’s cunt as it milked him dry. They groaned and grunted in thick, heavy unison. 

When Rhae’s eyes blinked open, she looked down at her lover, smiling oh so sweetly with trembling lips. Daeron himself was looking up at her, deeply satisfied, and no memory of anything that happened that day. His own eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed a deep red on his pale skin; Rhaenys leaned down and kissed his sweat-stained forehead - something that he always did to his family - before pulling herself up.

She held onto the headboard and lifted her legs, settling her feet against the side of his chest, giving her brother a sight of her spread open pussy, some of his seed dripping out of it. She raised her hips to not let any leak more from her, wanting to keep it inside so it could take root. She still couldn’t believe her brother finally spilled his child-making come in her.

Daeron saw her reach to the side of her bed and grab something, which turned out to be her undergarment that she quickly pulled them up her legs, hoping to keep his seed from spilling. Yet, there were still some that were streaming down her thick thighs, and with some on her fingers, she sucked and fed herself of their mixed discharge right in front of his eyes. She gathered what was left on her thighs and sucked them clean, then licked her palm.

Rhaenys slid off of him and licked up any of his spunk that had dripped onto his chest, licking around his thighs where she squirted her juices, purring at her own taste, before settling into her brother’s neck.

Rhae hated herself for thinking about when she saw her baby brother outside her chambers, before they took to her bed, wanting to know what happened up north, at the Wall. Yet, she enjoyed being in his arms, savoring the warmth from their coupling; so, she held her words in, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“I should tell you what happened at the Wall.” Daeron whispered to his sister, his hand fondling and squeezing her arse instinctively, while the other squeezed her breast protectively.

But Rhae just shook her head, responding back with, “No, I’ll most likely hear it tomorrow… it can wait.” Leaning up to place a sweet loving kiss on his lips, she stared into his eyes with care, “Besides… we have all night to ourselves. Let's forget about what happened this day. We can worry about tomorrow.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead, in a way that had Rhae closing her eyes in sweet harmony and purring from how loving her baby brother can be. “Thank you, Rhae.”

Rhaenys nuzzled her face into his curls, “I’m here whenever you need me, Daeron. I swear it to you.”

Daeron squeezed her in closer to him as much as he could. Rhae smiled and wrapped her leg and arm over him, lightly grinding her covered wet cunt on his thigh. “In a few minutes?”

He placed a finger near her rosebud and rubbed it in circles, realizing it was wet with their combined juices. He slowly inserted his thick finger, making Rhae gasp and push back, sucking in his digit. “A few minutes… I still have more hole I need to fill.” He said against her luscious hair.

Moments later, the knights standing guard outside the door, could hear the small sounds of grunting and moaning again. Ser Oswell sighed again and whispered to the knight next to him, “They are at it, again?”

Ser Jaime just chuckled, with his hand on the pommel of his sword, Blackfyre strapped to his back once he cleaned it. The smile stood on his face a little while longer. Seeing his Prince Daeron’s emotions when he arrived back in King’s Landing made him worry for his friend. But he was glad Princess Rhaenys was there to help take away whatever Daeron was feeling. No matter what, Jaime Lannister would protect his Prince to his final days. He would find out tomorrow what happened up north.

“I should ask to get transferred to guard another of the Royal family, preference would be Prince Gaemon considering he’s still a babe.” Oswell rolled his shoulders and neck before standing again at attention.

“For now,” Jaime chuckled at the words that came out of Ser Oswell’s mouth - he knew the knight didn’t mean any of it though.

In the distance, both Rhaenys’ and Daeron’s dragons roared for all to hear.

* * *

**The King of Westeros**

The King was standing on the grounds of the godswood, at the Red Keep, staring at nothing but the heart tree; he was about to  _ change _ when he was interrupted by his guard, Ser Arthur Dayne.

The knight had announced that the ‘the red priestess, Melisandre’ was there to speak with him. He told the knight to let her through, and also told him that nobody was to bother them.

He saw the knight shoot angry glares at the red woman who moved smoothly and quietly into the godswood, and it wasn’t until his guard was out of sight when the King rolled his eyes and sighed.  _ He _ was becoming annoyed with how the knight always acted around Melisandre.  _ Well, nobody trusts this woman except for me it seems _ .

But, to be honest, the  _ King _ could care less about what other people thought of the red priestess.  _ They are all nothing to me, but mere subjects… they are, however, beneficial for my plan to work. _ The King heaved a breath when he laid his lifeless purple eyes on the woman in front of him, who was staring hard at the great oak tree.

He scoffed, catching the attention of Melisandre before he spoke, “Daeron is back.” The King was anything but happy about his return from that dreadful place, they called the Wall.

Melisandre was emotionless at his words, but her red eyes gleamed with interest. “Well, is it done?” She asked the King, and took a step forward. “Is Mance Rayder dead?”

“I saw him cut the head of that  _ false king _ with my own eyes.” The King’s right arm twitched, and he immediately tightened his hand into a fist. “I almost laughed at how hard it was for  _ my son _ to behead the man.” The King laughed evilly and pitifully.

The red woman just smiled at him. “Well, it seems your plan is moving along the way you want it.”

“Not exactly,” he paused before he spoke again. “I have encountered a complication.”

“And that is…?” Melisandre waited patiently for her King to respond back to her, when he took longer than needed to speak.

“As expected, Daeron traveled north of the Wall, but I was unable to see anything past that. I am uncertain if  _ they _ proceeded as planned; however, an hour had not passed, before I saw the boy passing over the Wall, on his dragon.” There was no mirth anymore, on the King’s face.

“So, is this the complication you encountered?” She asked, confused.

“No, the complication is this.” The King responded back before holding up a clear-glass jar that was almost empty; it contained just a little more than half a cup of liquid in the jar. The remedy was of a white milky liquid, mixed with a red pulsing substance that looked like carved faces when viewing it in a certain way; to the King, the elixir always tasted sweet. “But, as you can see, I am practically out.” His temper was beginning to rise.

“That… that should have lasted you for about three moons’ turn.” A shocking and concerning look took over her face, and that was beginning to irritate the King. “King Bryn-,”

Melisandre of Asshai stopped talking the moment she saw the look the King gave her; his amethyst-colored eyes bursting with fury at her chosen words. She knew her mistake, and she scolded herself for it. “King  _ Rhaegar _ . Forgive me, Your Grace… I wasn’t thinking right.” The red woman’s tone turned to worry, making  _ Rhaegar _ , or rather Brynden Rivers, smirk evilly.

King Brynden lost some of the fury that sprouted from within him, yet it was still there nonetheless. “ _ We _ must take great care in what we say, and in what we do, no matter where we are. The spider has eyes and ears everywhere… except, in the north. So, we must choose our words carefully, Melisandre.” He spoke in a calm tone.

“O-of c-co-course, Your Grace.” She flinched at his stern gaze. Putting her head down in shame, Melisandre questioned, in a small voice, “What will be your next step? Of course, I will be getting more of that remedy for you. I’m assuming you’re going to need more than usual.”

“Yes, more than usual will be exceptional,” Brynden turned his body around, till he was facing the heart tree. “It seems Rhaegar is unwilling to let me do what I promised him I would do, all those years ago. I am trying to  _ save _ the world. But with him resisting me constantly… I now have to drink more than I should, only to keep the man away, in the darkness… where he should be.”

This time, his whole body twitched making him growl. “His determination to break free is more powerful than I thought; he loves his family too much, especially the one  _ they _ all call Daeron Targaryen.” The King chuckled, but there was no emotion to it.  _ Since the boy’s birth, he has caused me nothing but problems that get in the way of my plans.  _ Brynden took a deep breath.

The red priestess was taking careful strides towards the King, her steps were silent, red eyes fixated on his backform, as she listened to the words coming out of Brynden’s mouth. “Since Prince Daeron is back earlier than expected, what do you plan to do next?”

“Listen to what  _ my son _ has to say come tomorrow morning.” He looked over his shoulder, and immediately, Melisandre stopped her stride, her hand twitched to just touch him. She needed to be closer, like usual. “But, it won’t mean I have to believe anything he says however. I want to see him get humiliated, laughed at by all of Westeros; I want him to descend into that dark and maddening stage where I know he will do something evil, and will make everybody abandon him. Distrust him even to the point where he would have to leave Westeros, less those believe he would cause another Dance. He would, of course, die in sea  _ waters _ , travelling to Essos.” The King smiled evilly.

“And you have foreseen this?” Melisandre asked, with awe in her voice.

Brynden nodded his head, “I have, priestess. As I have said, this plan of mine has been in the making for quite some time. I will not have it ruined by some simpleton.” He grumbled angrily.

And with that, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Melisandre stood in her spot, not moving till someone cleared their throat; she turned her head around, catching the eyes of the knight who stared at her with his cold violet irises. It was like the knight knew the conversation was over.

With that however, the red priestess left the godswood, silent as the night, without looking back. She would do as her King demands.

“Unlike others, my visions do come  _ true _ .” He whispered to himself, before raising the jar to his lips and draining what remains inside; as always, it was a sweet taste in his mouth. “I am done letting you do what you want, Rhaegar.”

Throwing the glass, Brynden set his hand on the heart tree before speaking again, “I believe it’s time for a little visit, hmm.” His amethyst eyes turned upward, nothing but white taking over. “To where though…” The three-eyed raven opens his third eye, seeking the knowledge in it, and wanting more from it.

He flew, and he flew high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed it, or not, but please don't be rude to me in the comments. But let me say that I AM NOT A WRITER. Or a GREAT WRITER at that. I do my best with what I am given.
> 
> I don't have a particular outline for this story, or rather any of my stories, I just... write. I do know most of the plot however, and how it's going to end, so...
> 
> I am not great with politics, battles and such, but I will try my best with them on this story. Any questions or theories you have for this story will be answered, whether I answer the question or such as, if it isn't considered spoilers from my part; but they will be answered in the upcoming chapters, but as I said before, I am not a great writer.
> 
> Of course, I want to read your questions and theories and such. :)
> 
> Hope you take care of yourselves and be safe wherever you are reading this. Till next time... ;)


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